
Book- 



THE DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



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THE 



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DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



A TRAGEDY. 



BY 



GEORGE WILLIAM FEATHERSTONHAUGH, ESQ. 




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JfhilatJel^Jhta: 



PUBLISHED BY CAREY AND LEA. 



1830. 



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Eastern District of Pennsylvania, to wit : 

Be it remembered, that on the seventh day of May, in the fifty-fourth 
year of the independence of the United States of America, A.D. 1830, 
Carey and Lea, of the said district, have deposited in this office the title 
of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words fol- 
lowing, to wit: 

" The Death of Ugolino. A Tragedy. By George William Fea- 
therstonhaugh, Esq." 

In conformity to the act of the congress of the United States, enti- 
tled, " an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the 
copies of maps, charts and books to the authors and proprietors of such 
copies during the times therein mentioned ;" and also to the act, en- 
titled, "an act supplementary to an act, entitled, ' an act for the en- 
couragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and 
books to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times 
therein mentioned,' and extending the benetits thereof to the arts of 
designing, engraving and etching historical and other prints." 
D. CALDWELL, 
Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



K'NH 



>01 



Philadelphia: 

Printed by James Kay, Jun. &. Co. 

Library Street. 



TO 



SIR HENRY FETHERSTONHAUGII, BART. 



ETC. ETC. ETC. 



OF UP.PARK, SUSSEX, ENGLAND. 



Could I dare to anticipate a favourable reception for 
this Tragedy, I should indeed be proud of dedicating it 
to you. 

I do so now with the less reluctance ; conscious, that 
although, in your refined taste, I submit myself to a judg- 
ment about which I cannot but be anxious, yet that I may 
securely look to find in you an indulgent critic. 

Whatever may be the decision, upon — I believe — this 
first attempt to raise a name, not altogether unknown in 
the English annals, into literary notice ; 1 feel assured that 
you will receive this dedication as a proof of the unfeigned 
personal attachment of, 

My dear Sir Harry, your faithful 

G. W. FEATHERSTONHAUGH. 



HISTORICAL NOTICE. 



•The Pisans conquered Sardinia from the Moors, and divided 
its provinces amongst their chiefs, the Gherardesca, Sardi, 
Caietani, Sismondi, Visconti, fcc. These families adopted the 
local names of their Sardinian districts. In 1206, pope Inno- 
cent III. acquired great influence in Sardinia ; gave the heiress 
of Gallura in marriage to one of his relations, and demanded of 
the Pisans to renounce the government of the island. The 
Visconti resisted the papal usurpation with firmness, and made 
war on those who consented to hold of the pope. Subsequently, 
Ubaldo, one of the most powerful of the Visconti, was gained 
over. He consented to hold of the pope, on receiving the hand 
of Adelaide, heiress of Gallura ; and abjured his allegiance to 
Pisa. This defection occasioned great divisions. The parti- 
zans of the empire rallied under the Gherardesca, rivals to the 
Visconti ; and the two factions, under the names of Conti and 
Visconti, made war upon each other. Thus the imperial or 
Ghibelline party at Pisa was called Conti, and the papal or 
Guelph party, Visconti. About 1274, count Ugolino, chief 
of the Gherardesca, whose horrible death has for ever stained 
the annals of Pisa, married his sister to Giovanni di Gallura, 
a turbulent Sardinian chief of the Guelph party. The Ghibel- 
lines, who prevailed in Pisa at this time, began to look upon 
Ugolino, who was ambitious, with suspicion. They exiled 
Gallura ; who, with the assistance of the Guelphs of Flo- 
rence, made war upon Pisa. Ugolino himself was arrested 
in 1275, and exiled. He then openly joined the Guelph 
party, and defeated the Ghibellines ; upon which he was 



HISTORICAL NOTICE. 

recalled from his exile. At this period, Ruggieri de Ubal- 
dini, an inflexible man, and a firm Ghibelline, was made 
archbishop of Pisa. In 1 284, war then existing between Genoa 
and Pisa, a great naval combat was fought between them off the 
small island of Meloria, near the territory of Pisa. The Pisans 
were signally routed. Five thousand Pisans were killed, and 
eleven thousand made prisoners. This calamitous event carried 
desolation into every Pisan family. The chronicles of the time 
speak of the public and private distress as most intense. The 
resources of the Pisans were ruined, and their spirit almost 
entirely broken. The Guelph repubhcs in the vicinity now 
conspired to utterly annihilate this free Ghibelline state. The 
Genoese also determined to keep in perpetual imprisonment 
the Pisans who had fallen into their power, and who composed 
the most gallant part of the Pisan population. The people now 
determined to place count Ugolino at the head of their republic, 
with unlimited powers for the defence and government of the 
country. To forward his ambitious views, he ceded many im- 
portant territories to the neighbouring states ; and fearing 
lest the prisoners in Genoa should oppose his rule, he found 
means to evade their proposed ransom. By his rigour, he at 
length became odious to both parties ; he exiled the principal 
Ghibellines, and pulled down the palaces of those connected with 
them. He at length declared himself lord of Pisa. His nephew, 
Nino di Gallura, now the most prominent chief of the Guelph 
party, detached himself from the interests of his uncle, and 
drew near to Gualandi and Sismondi, chiefs of the Ghibellines. 
To counteract this defection, Ugolino connected himself with 
Ruggieri, the archbishop, the head of the Ghibellines ; recalled 
the exiled Ghibellines, Gualandi, Sismondi, Lanfranchi, &c. 
The count being thus strengthened, his nephew, Nino di Gallura, 
and his party, withdrew from the city. The city being thus 
purged of his opponents in the Guelph faction, he refused to 
admit the archbishop into the administration of the government, 
and a rancorous hatred grew up between them. In a fit of 
passion he slew a nephew of the archbishop ; and foreseeing an 
open rupture with the Ghibellines, he took measures to recall 
the Guelphs. Upon which the alarm was given ; the Ghibellines 
attacked Ugolino, who, after some resistance, shut himself up 



HISTORICAL NOTICE. 

with his four sons and a few partizans, in the palace of the 
people. The palace was set on fire, and they were made pri- 
soners. After keeping them in the Gualandi tower for some 
months, the archbishop caused the gate to be barred up, and 
the key to be thrown into the Arno, He and his children were 
mercilessly starved to death : a punishment far beyond the 
tyranny of the man, and which has drawn out as much pity for 
Ugolino and his sons, as it has produced detestation for the 
infamous archbishop. 

This Tragedy, the scene of which is in Pisa in Italy, is founded 
upon the historical facts thus briefly adverted to, and from which 
the author has only in one instance deviated. Nino and Ansel- 
muccio are said, in some of the old chronicles, to have been the 
count's grandsons. Italian scholars will perceive how much 
the author is indebted to Dante. Many years ago, the author 
translated the whole of the Divina Commedia into blank verse, 
upon a suggestion in the Edinburgh Review. He was pre- 
paring it for the press, when the able and faithful transla- 
tion of Mr Carey appeared. The work was then laid by, with 
other rejectamenta. Amongst some papers unexpectedly pre- 
served from a painful catastrophe, a selection of translated pass- 
ages from Dante's great poem was found. The terrible images 
with which the thirty-third canto of the Inferno is pregnant, led 
the author gradually into the idea of raising a tragedy out of 
the ruins of his translation, in the which he might preserve some 
favourite passages, the only memorial to the author of his former 
labours. They will be easily recognized by those who are 
familiar with the Divina Commedia. Having made this ac- 
knowledgement, he will be extremely flattered if every passage 
in this tragedy which may have the good fortune to please, 
should be attributed to the same source. 

The author was aware that in the construction of a tragedy 
fitted for representation, dramatic action required that every part 
should be preparatory and be auxiliary to the tragic interest to 
be excited by the horrible deaths of Ugolino and his children. 
In the progress of the work he found this a difficult task. The 
story is old, and too familiar to leave any field open for suspense 
as to the fate of the principal personage. The tragic interest 
therefore rested in the manner of their deaths, and it was to this 



HISTORICAL NOTICE. 

point, which could only be brought forward towards the de- 
nouement, that the author's mind was principally directed. 

" Pero quel che non puoi aveie inteso, 
Cioe, come la morte mia fu cruda, 
Udirai." 

These are the pathetic words of Ugolino in the thirty third 
canto, when he is about to relate to Dante and Virgil what no 
one could know — "how bitter was his death." But neither 
could these sad scenes be renewed through a whole drama, 
without weakening — in the author's opinion — the effect intend- 
ed to be produced. The Buffo part therefore, for which he 
holds himself entirely responsible, was thrown in ; somewhat 
with a view to soften the character of a work raised upon so 
dreadful a catastrophe, and because the author believes those 
who are conversant with the Tuscan manners of that period, 
will find nothing extravagant in Buffalmacco or Pippo, or in 
any thing they say. The game of Moro,* which Pippo was 
playing with Tonetto, under Orgagna's Picture of the Day of 
Judgment, in the public cemetery, when he hears of the death of 
his father, is well known to those who are conversant with 
Italian manners. Those who are not will probably not under- 
stand Buffalmacco and Pippo. Liston and Keeley would make 
any body understand them. It would be as tedious a task to 
make some people comprehend what these two unrivalled per- 
formers are capable of doing, as what Buffalmacco was capable 
of saying. If the author should be accused of vulgarity, he begs 
with deference to say, that Italian nature has always abounded 
in subjects for Teniers, as well as for Raphael ; and that he 
who immortalized Juliet, painted Mrs Tearsheet. 

The author believes that this tragedy, as lie now commits it 
to the press, will be pronounced by many fitter for the closet 
than the stage — and perhaps by some, not fit for either. Indeed 
he dares only to anticipate one admissible motive for its publi- 
cation, namely, that it will gratify his friends and himself. 

* This game is played with the fingers. The hands being shut, the an- 
tagonist players throw the fingers open in a quick manner ; calling out, with 
vehement gesticulation, a particular number : thus, if each party throws 
out four fingers, or one five and the other three, he who has called out 
' eight' wins the game. 



DRAMATIS PERSONiE. 



r Former Lord of Pisa. Kept inPri- 
CouNT Ugolino, < son with his children by the Arch- 

i. bishop Riiggieri. 
Gaddo, 



TT *- his Sons. 

Uguccione 

. ' > his younger Sons. 

Anselmuccio, 3 -y o 

RuGGiERi, Archbishop and Governor of Pisa. 

GuiDO Di MoNTEPELTRO, « Celebrated Chief. 

GuALANDi, ^ Adherents of the Archbishop, and Mem- 

Lanfranchi, J bers of the Council. 

MONZANO, ^ 

Bartoli, > Members of the Council. 
Anselmo, ) 

SiSMONDI, "% 

Pandolfini, > Ambassadors to Genoa. 

RiCOVERANZA, J 

Aldobrandi, a Noble Pisan, Prisoner to the Genoese. 
Lambruschini, Captain of the Guard. 
Pontani, the Bargello. 
BuFPALMAcco, a Celebrated Jester. 
Pippo, a Hunchback. 

Madonna Paula, ■) 

TVT ri f two Pisan Matrons. 

Madonna uiannotta, J 

Citizens, Women, Sbirri, Soldiers of the Guard, fyc 
B 



{% 



THE 

DEATH OF UGOLINO 

ACT I.~SCENE I. 

Public Square. 
Enter Anselmo and Bartoli. 



ANSELMO. 

Good Signer Bartoli, the morning air 
Brings you out early, sir ; for by the sun 
The council hour is still far off, nor aught 
Of councillors, or preparation, yet 
Have I, who by the mass have walked an hour 
About the square, at the Archbishop's seen. 

BARTOLI. 

Honest Anselmo, this same matin air 

That breathes so sweet — grateful it is to me 

As unto thee, old soldier, who hast drank 

V the open fields, amidst unsettled camps, 

More of the purer streams of life, than we. 

Poor fearful citizens, in crowded streets 

Are wont. Hence come your fresher spirits, hence 

The frank and fearless tempers, and the thoughts 

That lack the seeming earnest which oft clothes 

The specious utterings of us men of the world. 



12 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

But, as tliou art honest, it were not well 
To use with thee a dubious speech in aught. 
And though the morning air doth breathe of peace, 
And health, and universal gladness springs 
From nature's face, and all fair living things 
Seem to make holiday with her ; yet I, 
Signor Anselmo, by my troth came forth 
Not to enjoy this bounteous goodly scene, 
But to commune within myself ; and hold 
A sober converse with some serious thoughts. 
That oft times importune at conscience' door, 
When I at this same council board assist. 

ANSELMO. 

Xd be called honest is not ill, and then 

To be found honest is not ill, but well. 

Well hast thou spoken. Count, in truth most like 

Unto a city noble. By the mass, 

You do begin this goodly day right well. 

And speak me fair, not in a dubious speech. 

You call me honest. Eh! Have you been pleased 

To think me knave enough to wish to wear 

A cloak upon my name ? Honest Anselmo 

Is not my name. My name 's Anselmo, sir. 

Pray call those good pains taking people so, 

Who wish the credulous world to think them such. 

You are early out man-catching! You talk 

Like an archbishop, or a councillor. 

When at the reverend councilboard we sit. 

*' Sweet sir, the plan you have conceived is fit 

And just, and suited to the state and times." 

Marry and then. " But yet I shall propose 

One which I've here conceived, and I must think 

The public good requires that it" San Ranieri, 

\^Loud. 
Had I command in Pisa, I'd root out 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 13 



BARTOLI. 

Nay, prithee, Captain, hush, we are observed! 

ANSELMO. 

Observed! Ay, there it is again — observed! 
Let him who doth observe, observe this well, 

\_IIis hand to his sword. 
Which doth observe small manners with a spy. 
Signer, your lime twigs are too weak for me. 
Yet 'tis worth remembering — When two rogues meet, 
Tis well that one turns out an honest man. \^Exit. 

Enter Monzano. 

BARTOLI. 

Good morning, friend Monzano, would thou'dst been 

A little earlier i' the square : for here 

I met Anselmo, and in good earnest 

Set me on to sound him for our purpose. 

I spoke him fair, said he was honest too, 

And was about to open our grave thought, 

When with sarcastic grin he turned my words 

Abruptly back upon me ; then brought up 

The late rejection of his favourite plan 

At the council board ; got in a choleric rage. 

And brusqued away e'en as we saw thee come. 

MONZANO. 

I did perceive him somewhat moved, and feared 

Lest thou perchance had'st broke our purpose, and 

That he'd a mind to mar it. Glad I am 

To find all right. Anselmo's humour's blunt 

And quick, and, like his sword, flies out at times 

Without a second bidding, at his friends. 

But there's no malice in his angry moods. 



14 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

And his hot temper spends itself at once. 
Oft have I observed him at the council, 
On our late urgencies of state, which spring 
Alas! too frequent. Would it were not so! 
Anselmo's counsel has been ever wise, 
Touching our honour and our safety too. 
And, but he 's somewhat bolder than the times. 
Staking too much, as soldiers wont, at once — 
Somewhat too open too to speak his mind ; 
I know no man in Pisa I would trust, 
Before Anselmo, blunt although he be. 

BARTOLI. 

Noble Monzano, I have ever thought 

Anselmo true and loyal. Times like these. 

To men who love their country, urge the more 

That honest faults to us should be obscured, • • 

To let the noble qualities shine forth. 

Our country needs their aid now most of all. 

He turns this way. Let's greet him as true friends. 

And throw ojBf all reserve. 

Enter Anselmo. 



MONZANO. 

Give ye good morn. 



Noble Anselmo. 



ANSELMO. 

Signor Monzano, 
I am yours ; and, Signor, to you again. 
Pve walked to the other end of the square. 
Because the Signor said we were observed. 
For fain I'd see who t'was observed me here. 
By all the 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. IS 



BARTOLI. 

Captain Anselmo ; but anon 
You parted from me not so graciously. 

[Anselmo shows impatience. 
Nay, I entreat you, hear. What time have 1 
Not shown myself your friend, what time betrayed 
My country or my friends, that you should turn 
Tlie courteous phrases of a loyal heart 
To mockery, and judge me what I scorn ; 
An empty promiser, a flattering tongue, 
That would begin the day with treachery. 
And dupe the man I honour ? Sir, you know 
How high you've ever stood in my esteem. 
This honourable Signer and myself 
Have matters of deep import to the state 
On hand, yet such as may not well be known 
To all in Pisa: for it is too true, 
That all are neither honourable nor firm 
Nor true nor love their country, as I fear. 
And, for we value your known worth, I sought. 
On meeting you this morn here i' the square. 
To put the opportunity to use — 
Imparting to ye our most serious thought, 
And gravest purpose ; which will bear the ken 
Of honourable men, and such you are. 
All. men. Signer, are not alike well skilled 
In war, and brave i' the field. But Pisa still 
Has honourable men at home, who fain 
Would risk what 's left of liberty and wealth. 
And life itself, to save our native land 
From foreign and domestic foes.' Such men. 
This honourable Signor and myself 
Dare call ourselves. 

ANSELMO. 

Signor, it is most true 



16 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

That conscience is good company, and she 

Assures you now. Armed with integrity, 

We are boldly frank. Where the heart prompts the tongue. 

It doth, like to a master key, unlock 

Our breasts, to let in honest confidence. 

And so it is that ye have opened mine, 

With your most fair and undissembled speech, 

Which likes me well. And for your purpose, sirs, 

To help our state by honourable means, 

That must be mine — and I dare offer ye, 

For that and for yourselves, true hand and sword : 

l^Shake hands. 
Entreating you at times to overlook 
The wayward temper of an unbred man. 
Unskilled in courtesies and gentle arts.<* 

MONZANO. 

Captain, we're bound t'ye ; and let the bond 
That ties our mutual faith, from this same hour. 
Be confidence most unreserved. 

ANSELMO. 

Truly 
That were a blessed bond, that would tie up 
Into one heart and mind, three loyal friends. 
And, gentle sirs, most heartily I'm yours. 
Since my return from camps, and when it pleased 
Ye all to call me to your council board — 
'T has been, sirs, a fool's paradise to me. 
To serve my country, I have ever thought 
With true intent of counsel and of deeds. 
And have not spared to speak my mind where'er 
, The occasion called, trusting it was the end 
And meaning of my office. In like guise 
In the fair shew and speech I did believe 
Of the rest o' the council, taking them all 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 17 

As true and loyal men, who love the land. 

Which as we all profess, and more, to keep 

It well in honour and in safety too — 

I've sometimes marvelled, that amidst this care 

For the state's weal, which seems to govern all ; 

That when an honest plan 's proposed, and fit 

By common voice of all to serve the state — 

It's ever in the execution marred. 

Wherefore it is I know not. Yet I see 

Our country's cause grow every day the worse, 

And none to mend it, as it doth appear. 

Sometimes I've thought that all were not sincere. 

Yet knew not whom the thought might justly reach. 

Thus a concealed distrust clouds o'er the mind ; 

Marring the intent of every honest thought. 

And locking up our cold and sullen breasts. 

Which fair and shining mirrors well miglit be 

Of brother's love, faith, and the state's honour. 

Shuts out that generous confidence, which wins 

The noble objects, sirs, at which ye aim. 

Now, since ye have chosen me for your poor friend. 

Let us not pause — unveil your purposed thought — 

And let us haste to sanctify this bond 

Of honourable friendship, by some deed 

Of fair advantage to our native land. 

MONZANO. 

Noble Anselmo, well have ye expressed 

A patriot soldier's mind, and well portrayed 

What many feel, yet few have cared to speak. 

For touching the sincesity of some. 

As ye have said — prudence sometimes requires 

That doubts grow ripe into realities, 

Ay, and have friends, to back 'em too, if they 

Perchance observe the heads themselves of the state. 



18 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

ANSELMO. 

Gentles, please ye, no parables to me — 
But out with it at once. Is't Gualandi, 
Or Lanfranchi, — or whom else o' the council? 

BARTOLI. 

What think ye of the Archbishop Ruggieri ? 

ANSELMO. 

Your doubts are high ones, sir, and by the mass. 
The Archbishop Ruggieri is a man, 
Clothed with the nobleness of mind, as well 
As holiness, which suit his present state ; 
And, as I think, hath borne him ever well 
P the people's favour ; never having changed 
With all the shiftings of the varying wind. 
That blows the rest about ; but kept him firm. 
Being a true Ghibelline, and most opposed 
To the head o' the Guelphs, the pope himself. 
Who is the head and source o' the church's power. 
To whom he might the rather look for state. 
Were he ambitious, as ye seem to doubt. 
And thus I've ever thought of him; else, sirs. 
This arm had ne'er bestirred itself that day. 
When Ugolino, that false tyrant lord. 
We shook from his usurped signiory. 
And gave our native land again to breathe 
The air of freedom. Signors, well ye know 
What part the Archbishop played on that stern day. 

BARTOLI. 

Ay, sir, and we were Ghibellines in that turn 
Of Ruggieri's state, and were his friends : 
And, for we thought his purpose was to serve 
The people's liberty, by rooting out 
The Count's acknowledged tyranny, we lent 
Ourselves unto the crafty thought that rose 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 19 

In the Archbishop's fertile mind ; which was 

To sow some discord 'mongst the powerful Guelphs. 

Thus of the Judge Gallura having gained 

The ear, and being by him incited on 

To seize the signiory by his uncle held : 

He, the Archbishop, when the Guelphs were rent 

In twain ; and Ugolino, and the Judge 

His nephew, having risen with their friends. 

To oppose each other, openly at arms ; 

Did join the Count, and with him, all the rest 

Of the Ghibelline strength, and thus expelled 

The Judge Gallura and his numerous friends. 

And having thus sent off the flower of the Guelphs, 

A sudden insurrection, moved by him. 

Anon breaks out of the people. Loud cries 

Of tyranny and freedom — Ugolino, 

And the Archbishop — in the streets are heard. 

Thus craftily the Ghibellines being roused. 

Attack the Count, who being surprised, yet doth 

Breast him most valiantly against them all. 

And with some scattering friends, and their bold swords, 

Win a fair passage to the palace straight. 

Whence he's at length unkennelled, but by fire ; 

Cast prisoner with his sons in shameful bonds 

Into Gualandi's Tower, where still they lie. 

Thus by his priestly art the Archbishop reached 

His present state. 

ANSELMO. 

I do confess his craft 
Did serve the occasion well, and but for that 
The tyrant Count had still been master here. 
Yet craft doth not wear well, and may not e'er 
Become a holy person — least of all 
A mitred head. Yet I confess 'tis true. 
If I were wanting me some subtle turn. 



30 DEATH OF UGOLINQ 

Some triple fine spun thought, to overreach 
Mine enemy ; it were a grievous wrong 
To do myself, did I not find a priest 
To hatch it for me. 

BARTOLI. 

Nor hath it worn, sir, 
Well with us. This general discontent 
Amongst the common class, and these your doubts. 
Are fruits, that now are dropping from the tree. 
Transplanted not too honestly by us 
To our fair soil — which spreading out its boughs, 
Loaded with all the honours of the state. 
Draws to itself all that is rich beneath. 
And monarchs it o'er an exhausted land. 
'Tis true we have a council — but what then — 
When has the council ever acted here ? 
The council are the Archbishop and his friends. 
We are nought! They alone in Pisa act. 
Then, sir, the contributions, taxes, all 
The rich resources of the state, drawn forth 
By no unskilful hands, i' the people's name. 
And for their urgent welfare as we're told. 
Why what becomes of them ? The Archbishop, sir, 
And his true friends are the people, and 'tis just 
They keep them all. Yet 'tis in freedom's name, 
And to sustain its holy cause, 'tis said 
That it must e'en be so. What! is freedom 
Then not liberty — liberty to speak 
And act, within the reverence of the laws ? 
And where is liberty, if honest men 
Must here in Pisa huddle up, to talk 
In corners of their tyrant lords ? But no, 
Freedom is but a name — In them alone. 
All that is worthy of the public care 
Is found, and we the people are but tools, 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 21 

To shape the power and riches of the state 

Unto their liking. Above all should this, 

Captain Anselmo, touch your soldier's breast ; 

The base, unworthy, wretched fate of those 

Who on that day, above all other days 

Pregnant with misery to our native land, 

Fought with ye at Meloria. Sir, four years 

Have passed, since there the Pisan power was shook ; 

And to this day, ten thousand of the best 

Of our brave citizens, with the purest blood 

That Pisa boasts, have unredeemed lain 

I' the dungeons of our foes the Genoese. 

This cries aloud for shame, and seals our name 

For ever in the annals of the world. 

And wherefore this reproach ? It was once charged. 

That Ugolino sought to keep them there. 

Lest they 'twixt him and his ambitious views 

Might stand i' the track. Yet I remember well, 

It was Ruggieri and his friends charged this. 

And well they might be fathers to the thought. 

Who since have nursed it up so well, that though 

The Count himself hath lain eight months in chains. 

Still do our matrons mourn their absent lords. 

ANSELMO. 

Nay, sirs, but this were much to charge him with ; 

It never rains suspicions but it pours. 

Now in this of the enlargement of our friends, 

The Archbishop hath seemed ever prompt : and well 

Ye wot, that when I moved the council board 

To give up Castro, Pisa's pride and strength 

In our Sardinia, to the Genoese, 

To ransom them ; he did enforce my words 

With fair and cogent arguments, by which 

The council did resolve the affair at once. 

And sent ambassadors to the Genoese ; 

Of which great charge now Pisa waits the event. 



22 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



BARTOLI. 

'Twill wait in vain. Your plan was favoured, sir, 

To gain him credit with the people here, 

'Mongst fathers, brothers, children, wives ; and then 

A chance to mar it, having the conduct 

Of the treaty in his hands. Nay, start not. 

Captain, I speak no parables to ye. 

We have, and under the Archbishop's hand. 

Letters o' the very date the council sat. 

To some o' the signiory of Genoa, 

Raising grave doubts upon the matter there. 

And boldly charging us of the council here, 

With secret plans t' o'erreach the Genoese ; 

And once the enlargement of our friends procured, 

To cheat them of the promised ransom, sir. 

These letters by a noble Genoese 

Were to Count Guido Montefeltro sent. 

And reached us but last night, by a special friend 

Of Montefeltro's. Read — assure yourself. 

[Shows a Letter. 

ANSELMO [reads']. 
Why this, fair sirs, is treason, as I live, 
'Gainst honour, and 'gainst all that's good in man. 
I said I'd been in a fool's paradise, 
Feeling that all was not quite right, and still 
Yet seeing not wherein 'twas wrong. Why, sirs, 
Thfs must be met forthwith. We tread on mines 
That may explode, and blow us in the air. 
What have ye purposed ? How would ye reward 
This priestly perfidy ? 

MONZANO. 

The hour's arrived 
Of the council. Yonder Lanfranchi comes. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 23 

With other councillors. Distrust might grow, 
Did they observe how earnestly we're moved. 
Soon as the council's raised, we'll shape this thing 
Unto some form. Let's put on ease, and move 
To the palace straight. 

ANSELMO. 

'Tis hard, I swear, to move 
Straight, sirs, in such a crooked world as this. [^Exeunt. 



SCENE II. 

t/2 Chamber in the Palace. 

Enter the Archbishop. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

If then the reasons secretly I've urged, 

To those of the signiory of Genoa, 

Should fail me : and their rank pride to lord it 

In our Sardinian castles, well may move 

That haughty state. Besides the expensive task, 

To feed and furnish, and without time fixed. 

Ten thousand captives, has already caused 

Some public discontent. Why if they fail, 

Others more trusty must be found ; and best 

It would have been, had they been urged at first. 

Fair words and promises make men look round — 

Gold makes them stop. Tis gold makes men deal quick- 

The glass that makes them see their interest best — 

And gold in Genoa must do this for me. 

It were a goodly policy in truth, 

To bring ten thousand Guelphs back to their home. 



24 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

To take the rule of the state, and turn me out 

Of mine. It were a better game 1 ween, 

To make our Guelphs at home give up their gold 

To keep their friends abroad, where they best are. 

I marvel that Gualandi hath not been, 

To tell how Ugolino hath received 

The offered boon of liberty for gold. 

His treasures are untouched : but ere he thinks 

To see the comfortable face of day. 

They must be ransacked. Ay, and then indeed, 

Perhaps they may not purchase it for him — 

He is an apostate, and mine enemy. 

Eflter (jITALANDI. 
ARCHBISHOP. 

Signor Gualandi, I have looked for ye. 

GUALANDI. 

I thought to have seen ye, sir, at least an hour 
Before the council met ; but unawares 
A matter of some interest has engaged 
The time ; fitting, haply as it may be found, 
Your reverend ear. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

What novelty is this ? 

GUALANDI. 

At my accustomed hour to sally forth, 

Pontani, Bargello o' the Lucchese gate. 

Came in some haste ; and, being somewhat chafed. 

Reported, that two hours before the dawn, 

He, being with his sbirri on the watch. 

Going the rounds of the eastern rampart. 

Perceived, creeping along the wall, a man. 



DEATH OF' UCxOLINO. 2S 

Who, challenged, leaped sudden on the rampart, 
And began to fly : but, as it would seem. 
Being entangled in his cloak, he fell. 
Whereat the guard came up, and went to lay 
Their hands on him ; but with a voice and port 
That did not well companion his attire. 
He bade them all stand off; then sprang to the wall. 
Which shouldering him, he in defiance drew. 
Refusing to surrender ; and the guard 
Thinking to urge him gently, having odds 
In their favour, go to seize him. But he, 
I pray you, thinking too much gentleness 
Would spoil the game, knocks the Bargello down, 
With four men more, as they entreated him — 
And fled into the city ; where 'till now. 
We've sought in vain to find him. Being late, 
I left them seeking, and to the palace came. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

It is some brawler, on some vile amour. 

GUALANDI. 

Lovers, my lord, on their return from brawls. 
Are not much apt to scale and leap such walls 
As ours. And least at the return of day. 
When they might issue free and unobserved. • 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Why that is true : they who scale walls, and then 
At such an hour, perilling too their lives 
With such a resolute shew, fain must have 
Grave reasons to avoid being seen or known. 
Sir, the Bargello must repair his fault, 
And straight unkennel him. It may well be 
Some spy, or secret traitor, practising 
To overturn the state. We have those here, 
D 



26 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Signer Gualandi, ay, and near us too. 
Too cold to love us ; and where love is not, 
Doubt springs, and fear ; and they soon turn to hate. 
You said his voice and port, an I mistake not. 
Betokened something noble ? 

GUALANDI. 

Not, my Lord, 
So far; but were, as the Bargello said. 
Of a determined, haughty spirit ; and 
111 suiting to the peasant's dress he wore. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Then there 's disguise to boot. I pray you, sir, 
Hasten to have this matter brought to a head. 
It grows upon my mind. He must be found, 
This bold nocturnal, who thus braves our walls 
And guards. Let them be vigilant, and bring 
Him to the palace. We've means in Pisa 
To bend such haughty spirits. Torture shall. 
If gentleness may not, reveal his purpose. 
One moment, ere you go. What said your charge 
Last night — Ugolino — did you sound him } 

GUALANDI. 

My lord, l^did ; but like a sullen rock 
Deep in the changing ocean rooted down, 
He doth deride the flattering calms of time, 
More than the turbulent lashings of the storm. 
I spoke him gently, did entreat him fair, 
Repeated o'er again your proffered boon. 
Yet not a word did he vouchsafe me speak. 
And save but when I spoke of liberty, 
A look. Yet then he turned, and gathering up 
All of contempt that in his face could beam. 
He flung it in that look. Thus I left him. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 27 



ARCHBISHOP. 

There must a way be found to move him, and 

It shall be found. This night, Gualandi, I 

Will accompany ye unto the tower. 

1 had not wished to cross him in my life 

Again. I love him not, nor wish to see 

His face. But he shall bend, proud as he is, 

And shall give up that which I want. Else- — else — 

I'll see if he is proof against Sir, go, 

And hasten back before the council's up. 

[Gualandi exit. 
This may be well, for aught I know, some spy. 
Ricoveranza writes me that our chiefs, 
With whom I've acted in the Ghibelline cause, 
Deem that the reins in Montefeltro's hands 
Were better than in mine. I were a fool 
To let them cheat me thus. If they trust not 
One tried so oft as I have been — why then. 
Neither will I trust them. The best of them 
Shall keep without these walls — unless indeed 
They put themselves within my grasp, and then 
I'll put them in such walls as suit those bold 
Enough to be mine enemies. All — all 
Are enemies to me — Guelphs — Ghibcllines — 
Who seek to balk me of my deep revenge. 
The murderous arm that left me childless — ay, 
And all in Pisa that beheld the act. 
Yet spake not of the deed as it deserved — 
And left me all alone to avenge it — 
All are mine enemies. I am alone 
I' the world, and live but for the vengeance 
I'll gather them unto before I die. 
He shall give up his treasures, ere I strike 
The last and greatest blow — then shall my soul 
Know comfort — not 'till then. [Exit. 



28 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



ACT IL— SCENE I. 

Council Chamber in the Palace. 
Enter Archbishop and the Council. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Right noble gentlemen, it were to me, 
Who most unworthily do occupy 
The highest place in Pisa's signiory, 
A task most grateful, and most cherished too ; 
As well it would become a patriot prince. 
Clothed wath some sacred offices by heaven ; 
To fill your ears with welcome news, and touch 
Your generous hearts ; news that would vibrate too 
Through every breast in Pisa's fair domain. 
Well, noble sirs, should our own heart respond 
Unto the general impulse. Sweet it were. 
To publish through broad Pisa's lands, that fate 
And our fierce neighbours had relented. Yes, 
Would it were mine to comfort all the hearts. 
That much too long have shared the cruel bonds 
Which keep ten thousand of our best in chains 
In Genoa. Too long this widowed state 
Hath drawn forth Pisa's tears. Too many wives, 
Too many daughters, brothers, fathers, sons, 
Have known this sad bereavement. We, who fill 
The place of common father to the state, 
Feel most of all ; now at our council board 
Once more assembled, and remembering well, 



DEATH OF UCtOLINO. 29 

How we are called on by the general voice 
For hope and consolation. Hard it falls 
On us, fair sirs, to say we have no hope, 
No consolation, to impart. For since 
Our noble and much honoured councillors, 
Sismondi and the rest, in embassy 
Went hence, unto the doge's state — to move 
The freedom of our captive brethren. 
By giving Castro to the Genoese — 
A sacrifice — indeed — would make our sires 
Start in their graves : and yet, what sacrifice 
Could be toa great for Pisa's general peace ? 
And so I deemed it when I moved the affair, 
As well 5'e may remember, sirs 

ANSELMO. 

I trust 
'Twill have some pardon to remind your grace, 
That I it was who first said, Castro sold — 
To bring ten thousand Pisan freemen home — 
Would be well sold. 

archb:^hop. 
It were small courtesy 

In you, sir, thus to interrupt my speech 

Methinks 'twould move, as I have said before, 
Our valiant ancestors now in their graves, 
That Castro, that great prize, once from the Moors 
Wrested by their high deeds, should now again. 
And by a Pisan soldier, rendered be 
To Pisa's enemies. 

ANSELMO. 

Most noble sir, 
I pray you not to think a" soldier's words 
Wanting in every reverence to your grace. 



30 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

That I did move the matter is most true, 
And stand responsible for it to all. 
Let them take Castro, so we get our friends — 
And let them keep it if they can — But I 
Have some light fancies that, ere many moons, 
Pisa will cast her eyes again that way — 
And our fair swords may win it back again. 
I meant no more than this, most reverend sir. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Sir, it is well. You have a reverend speech — 
But 'tis the council board, and not the mass 
That doth engage us now. And so, fair sirs, 
To take up somewhat my thus cleft discourse — 
Although the time is more than fully ripe. 
We have no word from our ambassadors. 
Hence 'tis we cherish thoughts from day to day. 
Nay, and from hour to hour ; to have our hopes 
Or fears confirmed. This general suspense 
Weighs upon all, and better far 'twill be 
To know the worst but once, than have our lives 
Made daily wretched by it. 

• 

BARTOLI. 

True, my lord, 
Your grace says well in that. The citizens 
Will feel as if the worst were known, to learn 
What now your grace hath deigned to say: the worst 
May fall upon them twice, I grieve to think. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

What is your meaning, sir ? 

MONZANO. 

■ Most noble sir, 
A rumour hath possessed the general ear. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 31 

Of letters from Count Ricoveranza, 

Your grace's noble relative and one 

Of the state's ambassadors, having reached 

Your grace's hands, written in Genoa. 

And hence the anxious and the feverish thoughts 

That fill each Pisan breast. And this I ween 

The noble Bartoli's fair speech imports. 

[Jirchbishop and Gualandi interchange looks. 

GUALANDI. 

This is some idle tale, my lord, the times 
Are father to. The public mind is hot, 
And hatches maggots, like the sun, from nought : 
He that would hunt them all must rise betimes. 



ANSELMO. 

Faith, sir, you are right : and men would need long days. 

And longer lives to boot. Yet, were it true 

That public fancies, and those said maggots 

Are bred in the same way; then I must fain 

Imagine rumours have some substance too — 

That is, until I know the glorious sun 

Is made of maggots. When he shines on nought ; 

If maggots come of it, they are his own. 

GUALANDI. 

You are pleasant, noble sir. When I did say 

The sun did hatch from nought — nought that appears, 

I meant, nought obvious to our wonted sense 

Of proper causes. My philosophy. 

Mayhap, is not so deep, fair sir, as yours ; 

Yet I have lived to know how small a thing 

May make a mountain bring to bed a mouse, 

Or a cloud become a man i' the moon. 



32 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



ANSELMO. 

Nay, pray you spare me, sir — 'twere best, we think, 

How to allay this public feeling ; since 

Our duty and our love bind us alike 

Unto our citizens. This must be broke, 

And kindly, to them. Long it cannot be 

Ere every thing 's resolved. 

LANFRANCHI. 

Upon my life, 
With reverence to your grace's ear, I say 
The noble captain is not wrong. In truth 
This public rumour may have substance well. 
Your grace has been advised that an unknown. 
Last night, was found, scaling the eastern wall, 
And that he fled, and keeps in hiding still. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Ay, 'twas Gualandi did apprize us, sirs. 

You thought this gallant wore some strange disguise. 

Was it not so ? 

GUALANDI. 

My Lord, my own poor thoughts 
Indeed were those which the Bargello had. 
This roisterer, it seems, Pontani says. 
On being summoned q-uietly to stand. 
Struck the Bargello down. His hand being in, 
He lent it to four others of the guard. 
And knocked them down to keep him company. 
Then showed them heels as active as his arms. 
And there the matter rests. Some brawling youth. 
No doubt. The honour of his light o' love 
Has value in his eyes perhaps. 'Tis like 
Enough, the rumour of this fray has reached 
The town — And so we have a man i' the moon. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO, , 33 



ANSELMO. 

Faith if they have such men i' the moon, sir, 

It is a mettled race it holds, I would 

We had an army of them. Genoa 

Should feel we held her light of love enough. 

By saint Ranieri, patron saint of Pisa, 

Knock down five men — and then outrun the rest! 

I've seen bold knights move from the tented field, 

Display their strength, and rush upon the foe — 

And sometimes haply fly the yielded plain. 

And in your land, Aretines, I've seen 

Both horse and footmen march in proud array. 

There too gay tournaments I've oft beheld, 

Where many a sturdy lance I ween was broke — 

Whilst trumpets, drums and cymbals clanged around, 

Drowning the dulcet flute, and martial fife. 

But such a feat as this I ne'er have seen! 

If we go on at this rate, we shall have 

Saint George and dragon back again to boot. 

Has the Bargello found him not ? i' faith 

I'd like to see this gallant. Metal, sir. 

Is in him — of the right soldier breed, sir. 

GUALANDI. 

'Tis the Bargello's business- — if he loves 
His bones, he will revenge them if he can. 
Though I opine the legs that gallant bore 
Have carried him beyond Pontani's aim. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

'Twas but a brawl : 'twill teach him vigilance, 
And merits not our care. We must devise 
Some natural way to ease the public mind. 
Until some tidings come from Genoa. 

E 



34 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

'Till that takes place, the best of us, I wot, 
Will have but little peace. 



Enter an Officer. 

OFFICER. 

May it please your grace, 
As I but looked just now towards the marine, 
From the great window in the western hall ; 
All Pisa's population, I may say 
I saw, moving this way — waving their hats 
And hands, rending the air with shouts renewed. 
And, if my ears deceive me not, the name 
That most their tongues were loud and pregnant with. 
Was Aldobrandi — 'Viv' Aldobrandi.' 

ARCHBISHOP [starting from his chair]. 
'Aldobrandi! nay, sir. it cannot be. 
Moving this way ! How far are they from hence ? 
'T may be some mutiny. The feverish mob 
Is never safe. The captain of the guard — 
What ho ! Let every man be under arms, 
And guard the palace court — let no one in 
Until our pleasure is expressed. And, sir, 
Bring us some further news without delay. [Exit Officer. 
Now, gentlemen, I pray ye keep your seats ; 
If there is danger, we must move like men — 
If not, 'twere meet that we be found composed. 
Conscious authority is ever true 
Unto itself, a goodly countenance 
Is a strong host to enemies and friends. 

ANSELMO. 

Sir, it is a gallant disposition 

You show forth — and if mutiny 's at hand. 

You may command my sword. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 35 



ARCHBISHOP. 

Thanks, noble sir, 
We give you noble thanks ; nor do we deem 
The danger great — not less the prudence though. 
From the marine, he said that they approached, 
And 'tis not there 'twould gather to a head — 
But rather in the rank and noisy streets 
Of Pisa. It doth fret me now — what ho ! 

Enter Second Officer. 

Is that same officer returned, we sent 
Anon? 

SECOND OFFICER. 

My Lord, the captain of the guard 
Crosses in breathless haste the palace court, 
And bends his steps this way. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Straight bring him in. 
Enter Captain of the Guard. 

LAMBRUSCHINI. 

It is my duty to inform your grace 
The ambassadors from Genoa are arrived. ' 
With them the Marquis Aldobrandi comes. 
The populace are beating at the gates. 
To be admitted — but your orders were 
That no one should come in. 

ANSELMO. 

Now God be thanked ! 
Ever most our friend, when most we want one. 



36 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



BARTOLI AND MONZANO. 

Amen, with all our hearts aiid souls, to that, 

ARCHBISHOP. 

We shall find time to thank him, sirs, as meet 
It were, with all solemnity and form. 

ANSELMO, 

True, reverend sir. I've nought but soldier's thanks 
To give. Poor as they are, I give them all. 

ARCHBISHOP [to the Captain of the guar d\ 
Tell the ambassadors, we have resolved 
To do them fitting honour in this case. 
And since the occasion is most solemn too. 
We with our council have appointed now 
To give a public meeting in the square. 
To such dear honoured friends : that all may know 
How much we cherish them and Pisa too. 
Two hours from hence, we shall expect, fair sirs. 
To see you at the signiory, and thence 
In fitting state, we'll seek our noble friends. 

\Exeunt Anselmo, Monzano, Bartoli. 
[ To Lanfranchi. ] Hasten, and bid Ricoveranza here, 
And let him come unseen. Our relative 
Tis true he is — but we are acting now 
Beneath the public eye, and it behoves 
Us to be circumspect, [Exit Lanfranchi. ] Now 

Gualandi, 
Did I not say Anselmo loved us not? 
He must be watched. He is a snake i' the grass, 
Or they will make him one : but that's a thought 
Will keep. What can this Aldobrandi mean? 
What scheme is this they've hatched to bring him here ? 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 37 

I'm on the rack till Ricoveranza comes. 

S' death, that the fool Pontani cannot find 

That insolent intruder — 'tis some plot. 

The more I think upon it, more it grows 

Upon my mind. We 've enemies, sir, here, 

And haughty ones. The people are incensed, 

And harassed too. The fickle mob is prone, 

In such a feverish mood, to seek for change. 

We must be stirring. Haste, Gualandi, haste — 

Thou art a pillar of the state, to thee 

We look for aid and counsel — haste and touch 

The public pulse ; bring me some news, and — stay — ■ 

Command the captain of the guard he use 

All due precaution, and dispose his force 

So skilfully as not to hurt the public eye. 

But yet well placed to stay the public arm. 

And let the sbirri mix among the crowd, 

And mark the malcontents, and aid the guard 

If needful were. Oh what an anxious thing 

It is, my friend, to play the magistrate 

In this free state — where every one is free. 

Except the slave that watches o'er the rest. 

[Exii Gualandi. 
A slave indeed he is who watches thus! 
But with these vigils I may rivet still 
Chains upon these who make me thus their slave. [Exit. 



38 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

SCENE II. 
Court of the Palace. 
Enter Monzano, Baetoli, Anselmo. 

MONZANO. 

Why, Captain, how you chafed his reverend grace — 
He loves not contradictions. 

ANSELMO. 

Nor do I — 
That is my humour. But his grace loves not 
The man that contradicts him. Did you mark 
The haughty unforgiving air he wore. 
When he reminded us it was no mass 
We were engaged in. Now, God save our souls, 
I thought that priests loved to be reverend thought. 
And to be called so too. Yet where ambition comes, 
Or woman's favour — worldly pride — with some 
Such trifling mortal weaknesses as these — • 
'Priest me no priests,' they cry, 'but make fair room, 
Or by the malison we '11 carve it out, 
With pater nosters of some other stamp!' 
They 're priests until they 've got us by the nose. 
And then they put humility on us. 
Why, sirs, six inches of cold steel might serve 
To show a man a quicker way to heaven, 
Than all the priestly blessings from such hands. 
Talking of steel — I've had my day, 'tis true. 
And so has this companion by my side ; 
But now we may betake ourselves to rest, 
Since nameless paladins are found abroad. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 39 

To knock me down five ruffians at a time. 

His grace seemed but indifterent — ^'tis true, 

These knockings down ill suit the holy cloth, 

There's not much mystery in blows. 'Tis gests, 

And dubious words betray the dubious thought ; 

And this his grace knows well. 'Twould please me well 

To see this gallant. Blows, like these, are wont 

To fall on high occasions — not for love 

Of fighting — least of all in times like ours. 

MONZANO. 

The Archbishop showed deep policy in this. 
Having his councillors to blind — for we 
Rather do sanction his prepared behests 
Than aid with our advice. 'Tis known to me. 
From an unerring source, his reverend grace 
Holds this Pontani upon life or death, 
To find the ofiender out — many a spring 
Is secretly at work. 

BARTOLI. 

I fear to think 
That this concerns us more than we 're aware. 
Count Guide's messenger — could it be him } 
It might well be. He was to leave the town 
Before the dawn — Should he be ta'en. Ay, then. 
Indeed our matters draw on to a head. 
The missives that 1 gave him, — all conspires 
To show we stand upon a mine. My friends. 
Since the Archbishop counsels not with us, 
Let us with him. He gave us sage advice — 
^ If there is danger, we must move like men.' 
Discretion in our heads — and — in our swords 
True metal. We are not alone to meet 
This storm. But the time flies quick — ere long, 
We at the signiory must meet again — 



40 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

And when this solemn ceremony ends, 

I shall request your private ear. Till then 

Give you good den. [Exeunt Bartoli and Monzano. 

ANSELMO. 

This is the courtier's life, that oft in camps 

I've heard men speak of — all delight and ease — 

The love of ladies— gallant tournaments — 

A prince's smiles — fair gentlemen with caps 

And hearts too, as they say, in courteous hands, 

A perfect paradise — Ay, true, for fools — 

And such a dreaming stupid fool was I, 

To come into these courts, where perfidy 

And plots and specious ways and lying looks 

Are the true courtier's arms. My curse on them. 

Well have I loved my native land, and oft 

I've toiled and fought and bled and had small fare 

To comfort me for wounds and aching bones^ — 

Yet it did comfort me to think, that I, 

Poor as I was, was helping to build up 

The honour and the common safety, which 

At home I thought the anxious care of all. 

But now I find these patriotic chiefs 

Forget the stewardship — the steward 'tis 

They think for. What is a prince in power. 

Who casts a selfish eye upon his trust. 

Better than him he punishes with death, 

For plundering his too credulous lord's estate ? 

He is not better, he is worse. Low minds 

Lack of those noble virtues • breeding gives 

To men who are nobly bred. High breeding else 

Is but an idle term. And if his grace 

Should prove an arrant traitor in his charge, 

As much I fear : if by his wily arts 

He hath so practised with the Genoese, 

That my brave countrymen, who fought with me, 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 41 

Must rot in dungeons, 'till their rusty chains 

Shall snap for shame — The priest had better shrive, 

The prince that he 's so near to, his last shrift. 

\_Exii, and putting his hand on his sword. 



SCENE III. 

Public Square. 

Archbishop and the Council seated. The Ambassadors and 
the Marquis Aldobrandi approach. The Stage filled with 
the Populace. Mothers, Wives, <Sfc. ^c. of the Prisoners. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Most noble sirs, we welcome you in heart, 
More than in speech. This long expected day. 
We trust, brings comfort to some sorrowing breasts : 
Pisa's fair matrons look to you for hope ; 
Too long have they been widowed. Noble sirs. 
This deep bereavement 's common to the state. 
And presses heavy our paternal heart. 
The father to the state most keenly feels 
His children's cares. But heaven, in whom we trust, 
Now smiles auspicious in your safe return ; 
And blessed be heaven, and welcome be the day. 
The which to honour more, we have thought right, 
With our approving councillors now here. 
To give you this most solemn meeting, sirs — 
That Pisa may mark well, how nigh you are 
In honourable observances with us ; 
As well, how dear the interests of the state 
We feel. Noble sirs, ye are thrice welcome — 
And most especially we bid you so. 
Illustrious Aldobrandi — unto whom 
F 



42 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

This public ceremonial may not fit, 

The extent of our afiection be expressed ; 

So well deserved by you, both of ourselves, 

And at your country's hands. Now, an't please ye, 

With these poor utterings of a grateful heart. 

And thanks to God, dispenser of all good ; 

We are prepared to hear the high import 

Of your late embassy to Genoa. 

Pandolfini steps forward. 

PANDOLFINI. 

Most reverend and excellent sir! Our hearts 

Are grateful too. To give our thanks to God, 

In his fair temples on our native land, 

The scanty time hath briefly suffered. Still 

They have been sincere. Now, we thank our prince 

With all affection, and through him express 

Our duty to the state. My noble peers. 

Who stand before this presence, have thought meet. 

That I, the least in honour of the three. 

Should open this great matter to your grace. 

Sir, v/hen in Genoa we had arrived. 

The groans of our poor countrymen were heard 

Where'er we went. It seemed as if in chains, 

All Pisa's population had been thrown. 

And to a hopeless bondage was condemned. 

Our breasts were torn with pity; and the more. 

In that we knew not how to comfort them. 

Remembering our high charge, we straight besought 

An audience of the doge, and we laid 

Before him and his councillors, the first, 

And lightest charge of our instructions. This, 

As well your grace remembers, purported, 

To pay in ransom of our countrymen, 

One hundred thousand ducats of pure gold 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 43 

Of Venice Also to discharge, by some 

Fair compensation, equitably wrought. 

The maintenancing for some four years past, 

Of our ten thousand countrymen. And then, 

To ship them home to Pisa at our cost. 

We were received in honour, and dismissed. 

Until the council had resolved the affair. 

Sir, we were well assured the Genoese 

Were satiated with, to us, the sad 

And melancholy sight of Pisa's sons. 

Bound in their chains — and that their cost and cliarse 

Were counted by these royal merchants well. 

We were apprized by trusty friends, the state 

Did entertain our purpose kindly too. 

But these fair hopes were blighted ; for it seems 

The council changed their purpose, and, most strange, 

They urged upon us as their sole intent, 

Castro's surrender, our Sardinian strength. 

Now this was secretly our last resort. 

So warranted in our instructions, sirs : 

A strange coincidence, — yet it befell. 

With much and often communing, at length 

We did agree to render Castro up. 

And now we thought the matter at an end. 

When, lo me, sirs, pressing it on, to haste 

The necessary embarkations. 

Another change came on. From day to day, 

From week to week, not one fair answering 

Did they vouchsafe to all our wherefores. Nought 

Heard we more — save by some friends, the council 

Was divided. Some liked the ducats best. 

And some the fort. Tired out at last, we craved 

Permission to return ; and nothing loath. 

The doge in great honour let us go. 

As he received us. More he did to boot — 



44 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Permitting noble Aldobrandi here, 

For some brief space to see his native land. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

I am amazed! Capricious changes these — 
'Tis hard to say whence they do come. 

\Looking at Anselmo. 

ANSELMO. 

They come 
From princes that are traffickers in rags. 
The case is bad. Money may cure it still. 

Aldobrandi comes forward. 

ALDOBRAKDI. 

Most gracious sir, if a poor prisoner's thanks 

Might come as present earnest of the love 

And duty that I bear my native land, 

1 would most humbly lay them at your feet. 

But prisoners have nought to give, and I 

Am more than prisoner unto Genoa ; 

My honour being pawned for quick return. 

But if again, on some auspicious day, 

I dare to call myself a freeman here. 

My sword shall be my warrant, and my voice 

The trumpet, for the true allegiance, sirs. 

That Aldobrandi bears. Think not, my lord. 

That, like a love sick maid, by absence wrought 

To desperate adventure, I am come. 

To feast my eyes once more on what I love. 

My father's halls, I swear, shall ne'er respond 

To their lord's footsteps, whilst he wears his chains. 

What brought me here then? My country's honour! 

Four years have now elapsed, since that black day 

Closed in upon m)?^ freedom. Reluctant 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 45 

Memory — as when some anxious wretch 

'Scaped the devouring waves, and gained the shore, 

Turns to regard the turbulent abyss — 

Looks back upon the terrors of that pass. 

Oh fatal day ! that into bondage threw 

More than ten thousand of the bravest hearts, 

And wrapt my country's glory in a shroud! 

Haply, my noble Lords, in peace at home. 

Ye have not known, how lengthened absence draws 

A patriot's feelings to his native land. 

How quick his jealous heart leaps to avenge, 

And guard his country's honour. Well may then 

A captive's breast keep up a keener sense 

Of home ; since, night and day, his anxious eyes 

Are turned to those fair scenes, where all he loves 

Is found, and liberty likewise. Know, then, 

Your countrymen, whose bodies Genoa 

Possesses, but whose hearts are here, through me 

Now speak unto this noble signiory — 

And say, how this has been they know not, yet. 

So long ye've let their chains elank in their ears. 

That they have learnt so far to bear the sound. 

As to prefer it for a thousand years 

To one more grating — And there is but one — 

The knell that tolls for Pisa's glory. Ay, 

Surrender Castro and that glory 's gone. 

Sardinia, by our noble ancestors 

Wrested from Moorish sway, Sardinia 's gone. 

Each illustrious name : the Gherardesca — 

Caietani, the Visconti, Sardi, 

Sismondi, and the rest, that in our fair 

And gallant annals shine — all blotted out. 

Fair Pisa left alone — defenceless then — 

The prey of some small tyrant for a while. 

Until our marble palaces, that rear 

Their lofty heads where yellow Arno flows. 



46 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Have nought to nourish t3a'ants with. The rank 

And fulsome weeds shall fill our courts, and grass 

Our solitary streets. Pisa shall be 

One universal Campo Santo then: 

Mistress no more of states. Ah wretched land! 

Ship, without pilot, tost in raging storms — 

Hear how she calls on ye who hold the reins — 

' Stop, cruel ones — behold your widowed dame — 

Come, and behold her fallen state — all — all 

But honour gone. Come, and behold her sons, 

Her gallant sons in chains — Sons, who have sworn 

Their freedom ne'er shall cost a parent's fame. 

Redeem them with her gold — take all she has — 

But save her honour — for her life is there. 

And if thus desolate she cries in vain — 

If duty, love, nought can compassion move — 

Come but to blush at the degenerate thought, 

That thus extinguishes the Pisan name!' 

Grave sirs, it well becomes your charge, to think. 

Albeit somewhat moved — no idle words 

Are these I speak. When Castro 's gone, the doom 

Of Pisa is pronounced — and better far 

It were, to yield up all we have, and save 

A glorious name. For me, my Lords, content 

Is a poor word, to faintly shadow forth 

The joy that I shall feel, to render up 

All the possessions of my house, to bring 

My countrymen in honour back, unto 

An honoured land. And well I know, that gold, 

If amply tendered, will unloose these bonds. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Most noble sir, 5^e move us too. It were 
A traitor's thought to shame the land, much more 
To be its parricide. This generous warmth. 
Brave sir, becomes your patriot name, and straight 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 47 

This urgent matter we'll discuss. You said 
It was the general voice you spoke, of all 
Our countrymen in Genoa, I think. 

ALDOBRANDI. 

I did, my Lord ; and do believe it is 

The voice of all true Pisan hearts. 'Tis true, 

When first these noble gentlemen arrived, 

The sudden hope of freedom had so raised 

Some hearts that languished most for home, that when 

'Twas known no ransom but Sardinian forts 

Would be received, and would be granted too. 

The love of liberty still blinded them 

Unto so great a cost — and then it was. 

The noble Ricoveranza urged, in terms 

Worthy a patriot's and a Pisan's breast, 

The ignominy of the act. Which all, 

On some persuasion, did assent to. 



ANSELMO. 



Oh, 



Count Ricoveranza 'twas — 



ALDOBRANDI. 

Fair sir, indeed 
'Twas him — he hath a noble mind. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

A mind 
That well might grace a soldier's heart, 
And hand — more prompt to win fair trophies, sir, 

[ To Jinselmo. 
Than to surrender them. 

ANSELMO. 

Your grace says well. 
A noble bidding 'tis the Count has done. 



48 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



ARCHBISHOP. 

Noble sirs — we now retire. Our council 

Shall be summoned to attend. This matter 

Is most grave, and merits our best thoughts, whicli 

It shall have. And so farewell. [Exeunt. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 49 



ACT III.— SCENE I. 

Public Square. 

Pipro, Madonna Paula, Madonna Giannotta. Pisan Peo- 
ple^ Women, c^c. <^c. in the distance^ 

PIPPO. 

Well, Monna Paula, this is a great day for Pisa. 

PAULA. 

I don't know, Pippo. If I could only hear how my 
Gaetano is. The dear boy — I am sure he has sent a mes- 
sage to me — But how to get at it, Pippo. I can't get near 
the Ambassadors, there's such a crowd. And here 's 
Monna Giannotta too — they 've pushed her down twice — 
she can't get a word of news of poor Francesco, her hus- 
band. 

PIPPO. 

Ah, Monna Notta — buongiorno — Monna Notta — cas- 
pita! Monna Notta — glad to see you, Monna — glad to see 
you. I haven't seen you, Monna — since — let me see — 

GIANNOTTA. 

No, Pippo, and I want to see nobody, and nobody to see 
me, till my poor Francesco comes back. holy Virgin 
— how shall I hear of him. 



PIPPO. 

Why that's just what my poor mother says — She says if 
n 



50 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

my poor father wasn't dead, she'd be so unhappy thinking 
he was alive in Genoa — but as he 's dead you know, 
Monna, that alters the case. When I hurt myself I always 
cry, I'm so sorry always — but if I was dead you know, I 
should be a fool to cry. 

PAULA. 

0, Pippo, don't talk such nonsense. Come, Pippo, can't 
you help to a good turn now? How shall I get to speak 
to one of the Ambassadors ? 

GIANNOTTA. 

Monna — let us go to the palace of the Marquess Aldo- 
brandi : he is a noble gentleman and an affable. It was in 
his galley that Ceco fought. I'm sure he 'II speak to us. 

PAULA. 

Nay, Monna Notta, it were vain. The Marquess, I've 
been told, refuses to go to his palace, or even to see the 
Marchesa. 

GIANNOTTA. 

Not see the Marchesa — his own wife — and the most 
noble, ay and the most beautiful dame in Pisa — Monna, 
this is some idle story. 

PAULA. 

It is too true, Monna. 

PIPPO. 

Then you had better go, Monna Notta — it will only be 
taking a lesson against your husband comes home. I war- 
rant me if the Marquess won't go to see his fine palace, and 
his beautiful wife ; Francesco, that fought in the same ship 
with him, will prove a true follower. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 51 



GIANNOTTA. 

Come, Pippo, don't vent your spitefulness on me — I 
never call you Gobbo, and plague you as others do. 

PIPPO. 

You see, Monna, perhaps the Marquess has found some 
of the brave ladies in Genoa a great deal younger, and so 
he may think he '11 find the Marchesa a great deal older. 
That's just what my mother says — She says she grows 
older every day since my father died — and that's a long time 
ago. I remember I was playing at Moro in the Campo 
Santo with Tonetto, Buffalmacco's godson, that stole 
Padre Donato's cat, and sold him the carcase for a rabbit, 
and the skin for a fox. Three, says he. Seven, says I. 
Have you heard the news, Pippo ? says he. No, says I. 
Eight, says he. Four, says I. There's been a fight at 
Meloria, says he. Magari! says I. Six, says he. 
Five, says I. The Genoese have taken all our people, 
says he. Anima di porco! says I. Seven, says he. 
Nine, says I. Your father 's killed, says he. Oh you 
thickhead, Pve hit you there! says I. Four and five 's 
nine. 

GIANNOTTA. 

'Tis thus, Monna, it has ever been with Pippo — he has 
all the malice of a hunchback; and yet he's so unfeeling, 
and sometimes such a stupid ass, that it is hard to tell whe- 
ther he has most of imp or idiot in him. 

PAULA. 

We had better go, for here comes another of them — 
Buffalmacco : he is no fool — but he tries to make a fool of 



every one he meets. 



52 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



PIPPO. 

Monna mia — I see Messer Buffalmacco coming. 
There's not a man in Pisa knows as much as he does. He 
can tell you all you want to know. I warrant you if any 
body has seen the Ambassadors, Buffalmacco has. 

Enter Buffalmacco. 

PAULA AND GIANNOTTA. 

Good den t' ye, Messer Buffalmacco, good den t'ye, sir. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Eh! what! cospetto — why who is this ; Monna ? 

PAULA. 

Monna Paula — Messer. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Evvero — Monna Paula — and Monna why one 

of us grows old, Monna, or I should remember ye. 

GIANNOTTA. 

Monna Notta — Ser Buffalmacco [curtseying']. It's long 
since you 've seen Giannotta, the Count Guido's nurse. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why, anima mia! Notta, is it you? 

GIANNOTTA. 

Yes sir, but somewhat changed with time. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

You 've had a great many children and a bad husband, I 
suppose. That happens to women, just as it happens to 
men to be made fools of by them. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 53 



GIANNOTTA. 

No Messer — My cantilena does not go that way. In 
truth I am here to hear something of my husband — but I 
can't find for love or money any one to speak to the Am- 
bassadors. Have you spoke with them, Messer ? 

BUPPALMACCO. 

There's not a man in Pisa goes to dinner, but Buffal- 
macco can say grace there if he pleases. 

GIANNOTTA. 

And about the Prisoners, have you heard them say any- 
thing, Messer? 

BUPFALMACCO. 

They talk of nothing else. A man feels as if he had 
hand-cuffs on him all the time. 

GIANNOTTA. 

And did you hear them say any thing of my poor hus- 
band — He had a charge in Aldobrandi's galley ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Let me see. There was something said of such a man, 
that when they came away was to be hanged. 

GIANNOTTA. 

For what, sir ? 
» 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why for marrying a young Genoese wife, when he had 
a good old wife here in Pisa. 

GIANNOTTA. 

You don't remember his name, do you, sir? My Fran- 
cesco never 



54 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



BUFFALMACCO. 

Francesco — faith, that was the name — but no 'twas 
something else — Francesco 



GIANNOTTA. 

NotTosoni, sir? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

You've hit the name plump on the head. You couldn't 
have done it better, Monna. 

GIANNOTTA. 

Oh miserable me! What shall I do ? Oh Monna Paula 
— Monna Paula ! [ Weeps. ] 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why who ever heard before of such a thing as an un- 
reasonable woman — It is n't every woman's husband 's 
hanged, is it Monna } \_To Paula. ] 

PAULA. 

Come now, Monna Notta — this is one of Messer Bufl'al- 
macco's jokes — cheer up, Monna! 

PIPPO. 

Ser Macco, bacio le mani — Pippo, Ser Macco. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Ah Gobbo, art thou there ? 

PIPPO. 

Diavolo — What do you call me Gobbo for, Ser Macco ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why thou calledst me Macco. That's but half my 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 55 

name— and Gobbo 's half thine, for thy hump 's about one 
half of thee. 

PAULA. 

Ah ! now the humpback gets it. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

What dost thou call this a great day for in Pisa, Signor 
Pippo, if thou likest that better ? 

PIPPO. 

0h Messer, the Ambassadors are come from Genoa. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Well, and thou vvert in the square when the Archbishop 
gave them audience — 

PIPPO. 

Yes, Messer. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

And didst thou Iiear what they said to him ? 

PIPPO. 

No, Messer, I was too far off. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

And didst thou hear what he said to them ? 

PIPPO. 

No, Messer, I was not near enough. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

And dost thou know what news they have brought ? 



56 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



PIPPO. 

No, Messer, that is just what we all want to know. 

BUPFALMACCO. 

Thou hast seen a great many people, and thou feelest 
like a greater fool than ever, and all this makes it such a 
great day in thy eyes, I suppose. 

PIPPO. 

Messer Buifalmacco, where is your godson Tonetto ? 

BUPFALMACCO. 

He 's gone to an honourable trade, the wars being all 
over. 

PIPPO. 

Oh Messer, what trade ? I want to go to a trade. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

He 's learning to curl the devil's whiskers. 

PIPPO.-v 

Santa Maria! 

BUFFALMACCO. 

The old gentleman 's going a courting — he wants to look 
gay and smart, and so he has got Tonetto bound over to 
him. 

PIPPO. 

D' ye remember, Messer, when Tonetto stole Padre 
Donato's cat and sold it to him, skin and all, and how 
they ate the cat in the refectory for a rabbit guisato ? 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 57 



BUFFALMACCO. 

Ay, it was that got Tonetto his preferment. That cat 
was the famous ram cat that tempted St Anthony of Pa- 
dua. When the Padre ate the carcase, the devil got into 
Tonetto's, and set himself up for his own barber. 

PIPPO. 

Santissima Madre! 

BUFFALMACCO \his finger to his mouthy 
But mum, that's a family secret. 

PIPPO. 

1 can keep it, Messer. Tonetto and I used to keep each 
other's secrets — we only used to talk of them in the Campo 
Santo under Orgagna's picture of the day of judgment. 
But, Messer, wont you tell us — Monna Paula, Monna 
Notta, and myself, some of the news from Genoa ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

PIppo, I have a secret I could tell — but can you keep 
two secrets? You know they say a woman can't keep 
one. 

PIPPO. 

Never fear, Messer — Pippo can keep them both. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why then know, the news from Genoa — is — 



PIPPO. 



Cospetto ! 



BUFFALMACCO. 

The Do ge.... 

H 



58 DEATH OF UGOLINO 



PIPPO. 

It isn't possible! 

BUFPALMACCO [slow'j. 

The — Do — ge — of — Geno — a 

PIPPO. 

Oh Santissimo San Ranieri! 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Has got such short fingers, that he can't 

shut his own hands. 

PIPPO [staring']. 
Coglione! 

BUFPALMACCO. 

No more than you can scratch your own back. 

PIPPO. 

Anima buzarona! [Exit angrily. 

BUFPALMACCO. 

Maladetto! See how the half blooded imp looks back. 
He'll keep those secrets, I warrant him. Come, Monna, 
let's have some gossiping. 

PAULA. 

Nay, Messer, you are never serious, and you 've hurt 
poor Monna Giannotta. 

Enter Anselmo. 

ANSELMO. 

Ah Signer Buffalmacco — a good den 

T' ye, sir. Why, how is this ? And weeping too, 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 59 

Madonna ? Why 'tis Madonna Notta. 
How has this chanced ? 

PAULA. 

Some jokes of Messer Buffalmacco, sir. 

ANSELMO. 

Ah Buffalmacco, let us crack our jokes 

Only in places where our swords might strike, 

If such need were. Not upon womankind — 

And least of all on honoured Matrons, such 

As Madonna Notta. She is not rich, 

'Tis true, yet she has what will last 

Longer than riches — She has an honest heart, 

And hath known better days. I knew the time, 

When the young Lord of Montefeltro hung 

On Giannotta's breast — She was his nurse. There 

He drew in healthy streams — and better blood, 

Could scarce have made a better man. Ay sir, 

I say a nobler than the Count has proved. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why now, the foolish dame — to weep for such an idle 
tale — This Dossori or whatever was his name, he'll not be 
hanged, I warrant him. Come — come [to Giannotta\. 

GIANNOTTA. 

'Twas not Tosoni, then, sir ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

'Twas one of Buffalmacco's babies you were cackhng 
after, you old goose, and not your husband ; but sith it 
comes to that, give me your hand, Monna, and I'll try to 
make you amends. 1 am to feast at Ricoveranza's this 
night, and I'll get something out of him of this Francesco 
of yours. But where do you live, Monna, now? 



60 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



GIANNOTTA. 

In a lone cottage, sir, not far from the Gualandi Tower. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

You shall hear from me, Monna. 

PAULA. 

And my poor boy, Gaetano Strozzi, Messer; wont you 
speak a word for him too ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why what are they going to hang him for ? 



PAULA. 



Messer. 



BUFFALMACCO. 

Well — well — addio — Monne — addio. 

\^Exeu7it Paula and Giannotta 

ANSELMO. 

Ah Buffalmacco, you are a wicked wag, 

But I am fain to think you 've got more heart 

Than some who are higher in the state. 'Twere well 

If they meant quite as honestly as you. 

The people mean us fair, and we should use 

The people kindly. You mix more with them. 

Sir. How does it stand with them ? What think they 

Of this long captivity? — of these bonds 

All talk of breaking, yet which ne'er get loosed? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Captain Anselnio — you are a frank and honest man. I 
know you and am not afraid of you. The people are not 
fools. The women, sir, want their husbands home, their 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 61 

sons, their fathers and their brothers. The bonds that 
have made them fast in Genoa, have set their tongues 
loose in Pisa. But the men here who think the most, say 
the least. There may be some however who think deep 
enough, to do a wrongful thought to some of those you 
spoke of but just now — those higher in the state — whom 
't may not suit to have ten thousand soldados here at 
home. Your soldado — saving your presence — is an un- 
quiet sort of animal — he loves changes — and if they wont 
come of themselves — why then — ten thousand arms, with 
one head to carve them out, might bring some changes on, 
that wisdom thinks were as well off as on. Do I speak 
by the rule, sir, or shall I put it into jokes or verse for ye? 

ANSELMO. 

I understand you, sir — it is enough — 
The people are not satisfied, I ween. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

The people are the most unsatisfied people in the world 
— the more shame for them. And so, sir, my humble ser- 
vices wait upon you. \_Exit. 

ANSELMO. 

That wag has touched the very tenderest chord. 

Ricoveranza played his part right well. 

And now his grace must have our gold, to loose, 

Not bonds, but consciences in Genoa. 

Gold must be given straight to forge new chains 

For our poor countrymen. 'Sdeath, this foul fraud. 

This specious head and bust, semblance of truth 

And justice — so benign and fair. A crime. 

One of the basest that a man can do, 

It were, not to turn up the saintly robe 

And show the serpent's tail. I'll look me up 

These gentlemen. [Exit. 



62 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



SCENE 11. 

Jirchhishop' s Palace. 

Enter Archbishop and Ricoverakza. 

RICOVERANZA. 

Your grace is now possessed of every step 

I took. These merchant princes have their price. 

Gold is the merchant's god. And they were fain 

To close with us at first. This they had done, 

Had I not covertly held out the bait 

Of Castro — Then the pride of Genoa 

Broke loose — nor could they bridle it, until 

Some timely earnests were paid down — the dawn 

Of future largesses. And thus we got. 

With working on the Pisan pride to boot. 

More breathing time. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

And that is golden time — 
Time turns to gold when men are thrifty, sir, 
And that we must be now. I must have gold, 
And I will have it. Pisa is poor — Still 
She has something left. I have kept my eye 
On one, who has it, and who wants it not. 
Nor ever shall. This very night I'll wring 
It from him. Proud — unsubdued — Gualandi 
Says he is — no matter — the cup he drinks 
Shall have more myrrh put in't. But kinsman, say -, 
Ye spake of Doria, and of some strange news 
He had from Piedmont, When ye spake of it 



DEATH OF UGOLTNO. 63 

Gualandi was in hearing — things that touch 
Me nearly, I care not should be known, save 
But by those who stand near to me, like yourself. 

RICOVERANZA. 

Why sir, the sum of it was this. Th.e prince, 

Ere our sojourn was old in Genoa, 

Gave me in secret, that he had for news. 

The emperor and the Ghibelline chiefs 

Had privily resolved, without delay. 

To send Count Guido Montefeltro here 

From Piedmont, to take the reins in hand, lest 

The return of such a host to Pisa, 

Should cause some strange commotion, that the Guelphs 

Might draw advantage from. And, in good sooth, 

'Twas plausible enough: it being well known 

That Aldobrandi is a Guelph at heart. 

And popular enough to lead them on. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Plausible! ay — there are more workings here 

Than I am trusted with. What Ghibelline 

Has been more true than I — has ventured more ; 

Who broke the Guelphish power in Pisa here, 

Divided it in twain ; shut Gallura 

Without our walls ; and Ugolino — head 

And front of all their strength — within such walls 

As he may never force again. Are these 

Light deeds — Am I not trusted then? Others 

Must reap, it seems, what I have sown — 

'Tis well at least to know it is so. At least 

We dare to trust ourselves — And kinsman, you 

Are as ourself. Our council is composed 

Of some who are but dubious friends — and such 

'Twere best to test. We'll know them, true or false, 

Ere long;. 



64 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Enter Gualandi. 

Well, Gualandi, hast thou yet heard 
Of this Bargello ? 

GUALANDI. 

Nay, my Lord, it rests 
In mystery yet ; but we have set such traps. 
That it were hard, if this affair have such, 
But that our enemies fall in. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Come, sir, 
We'll hence and speak this prisoner, [Exeunt. 



SCENE III. 



Evening. A Chamber in the Gualandi Tower. 



Count Ugolino and his children manacled. The children sleep- 
ing on the jl,oor. Ugolino looking to the small grated 
window. 

UGOLINO. 

Night falls again ! Thou peaceful sunset hour, 

That erst upon the desolated hearts 

Of our first parents stole, closing on them 

The wondrous spectacle — as if their God, 

Plunging with his spent glories from on high. 

Was bearing them and nature too along, 

Into the irrecoverable tomb 

Of night and death. Thou melancholy hour! 

That dost suspend the influences of life, 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 65 

Announcing sleep — Image of longer death. 
All nature seems to shrink at thy approach — 
E'en now yon distant convent bell, that twangs 
Amid the evening shades, and strikes mine ear, 
Seems to feel sorrow for the dying day. 
Ye soft embrowning shades, that fading light 
Subdue ; and to the wearied passengers 
Of life's long journey, bring a rest from toil — 
Fall gently on my senses. Me alone 
Except not from the general blessing. Let 
Your grateful influence wrap my wearied sense, 
My ever waking dream of hope deferred. 
My ever present, restless misery. 
In your oblivious shrouds. And when sleep falls, 
And gently lifts the bonds from these poor babes, 
Then be it so with me. Let not my dreams 
Press these accursed chains deeper within 
My wounded soul. Put not within my grasp 
That phantom of revenge, that mockery 
Of liberty. That when my brooding day 
Is done, my soul may know some rest — nor wake, 
To curse the day, that I was born, to bear 
This bondage. They sleep. The world's affections 
Are now dead to me — for me no passion lives 
But hatred, rancorous hatred, both to me 
And mine. I can hate — truly I can hate 
An arrogant deceitful world as well. 
And my affections, they are compassed 
In the brief space this prison doth afford. 
Yet they are strong — and more my father's heart 
Is wrung for them, than for my wretched self. 
This artful tyrant, this Ruggieri, 
Who in my path hath ever stood ; he knows 
No kindlier movements of our nature. He 
Is a priest, and has no children. His mind 
Is bent on garnering for himself alone — 
I 



66 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

He has not the excuse, if insufficient, 
That ambition lends to those, whose name 
Must be held up, and in some honour given 
To their fair sons. He has no name — no sons. 
His is one thought — how by hypocrisy- 
He best may veil his lust of power. And I, 
Fool that I was to trust this faithless priest, 
And call him with his Ghibellines to my aid, 
Against my kinsman who but thwarted me. 
With whom I should have dealt with gentleness — 
But 'tis ambition's way. We rashly stake 
Realities, for things, which, when attained, 
We can't preserve ; and so lose all. E'en so 
Have I done. I have lost all — more than all. 
My own — my children's liberty to boot. [./5 noise. 

What noise is that? 'tis an unwonted hour! 
They have unbarred the prison door below. 
Gualandi, may be — with some food. 'Twas strange 
They brought no food to-day, and since the morn 
Of yesterday we fast. I deemed him galled 
Last night; the silent scorn he got, might well 
Ruffle my haughty jailor — and I thought 
He kept it back perhaps to harass me, 
And try my patience more. Once indeed, thoughts 
Flashed o'er my mind — too horrid — They are passed — 
I did not dare to think on them. And now, 
I wot, he sends us food when day and spite 
Lie down together. Arise, my sons, shake 
Off your sleep — here's food for ye at last. 

Enter ARCHBisiior and Gualandi. 

[Starls] Ah! 

GUALANDI [io the Captain of the Guard]. 
Wait in the room below, and if you hear 
Me call aloud — then instant bring your men. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 67 



ARCHBISHOP. 

Count Ugolino. Nay, sir, hear. It were 

Small policy in you to shut your ears. 

When haply they may bring you tidings [^Ugolino turns 

awayl Well, 

If liberty hath lost its charms for you 

And yours — then, it is true, you've nought to hear. 

You love me not — There is a gulph I know 

Between our loves [ Ugolino ivaves his hand]. So let it 

be — But here 
Are some, who stand this side that gulph, and long 
May stand there, would their jealous sire permit. 
Ay, and in liberty. Hear this plain tale! 
The aspect of this bondage ye are in 
Is somewhat hopeless — Ye are not alone 
In this. Our citizens in Genoa 
Still wear their chains, in hopeless bondage too. 
The council there look to a ransom, more 
Than Pisa's worn out coffers can produce. 
The people too, exhausted by our wars. 
As well you know, have little more to give. 
Your secret treasures, Count! — ay, sir, I say, 
Your secret treasures, may do more than free 
Your captive countrymen — they may free these! 

IPointing to his sons. 
But not yourself — at least not yet. When you. 
Count Ugolino, shall have learnt, that he, 
Ruggieri, who enjoys your present hate. 
Can have your sons, in honoured kindness — Ay ! 
Then haply from Ruggieri's hands, e'en you 
May deign to take your freedom too. Now, sir, 
['ve said — and wait your answer. 

UGOLINO {after a struggle]. 

Ne'er again 
I thought to see thy hateful face, or hear 



68 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Thy cursed voice. If all the fiends of hell 

Were out, there is not one I would avoid 

Like thee. But since within my den thou'rt come, 

Daring to trust thyself so far — My words 

Shall be as plain as thine. I trust thee not. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Injurious and proud — Prisoner — that word 
Came well, to speak thy impotence. A slave 
Like thee may rail: thou shalt not chafe me so 
As to forget thou art one. Come, resolve, 
And if thou hast a father's heart — be quick — 
Thy fate and theirs hang by a thread of time. 

GUALANDI. 

Noble sir, look on these fair sons, be wise. 

UGOLINO. 

Silence! base pander to this bloated priest. [Meditales. 
Release my children, and I'll give you gold. 

[His children cling around him. 

GADDO. 

Nay, father, we'll not stir from hence, unless 
He gives you freedom too. We scorn his wrath ; 
We can be happier where our father is. 
Even in this tower, than under his false care. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Take thy words back again, 'I trust thee not.' 
Surrender up thy gold, and here I swear, 
Thy children shall be free. I say, I swear. 

UGOLINO. 

Swear! thou perjured fiend! Thou hast sworn too oft, 
For thy soul's comfort, and my body's too. 



DEATFI OF UGOLINO. 69 

What are oaths to thee — base shuffling priest. What — 

Is it not thy trade, to undo all oaths ? 

And if thou canst release the stupid fools, 

Who think that God makes devils saints, why what 

Can stop thee from absolving thine own self? 

I'll not be caught by such light things as oaths. 

Fetch the Bargello here — I'll make him swear 

For half a ducat that I'll keep my word. 

His oath is lawful coin — thine, base. I swear, 

And by the unstained honour of my name, 

I will not trust thee. A father's hearti Yes, 

I have a father's heart, and these dear babes 

Live only in it. And if all the gold 

That is in Christendom, were mine — I'd give 

It all, to make them happy. Never more 

Than now did I feel for them ; and if thou, 

Ruggieri, meanest loyally, which much 

1 doubt, go — bring thy council here — To them. 

For this great purpose that thou speakest of, 

I will surrender all — on pledges given 

To liberate my sons. Thee I trust not. 

No more than this I'll do. So may I have 

Comfort from God when most I want his aid. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Thou shalt not dupe me so. A prince's word 
May well suflUce a prisoner's doubt. 

UGOLINO. 

What prince ? 
Thou art no prince, thou lying hypocrite — 
Because thou sittest in a prince's chair. 
I am thy prince — and were my body chained 
r the darkest dungeon of thy wrath, still 
Should my soul be free, to scorn thy rancour. 
False hypocrite! thou darest not trust, it seems, 



70 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Thy council with the gold the state must have — 
I thought as much. 'Twas for thy own base use, 
Thou'dst steal it. I abhor — I spit on thee. 
Away — away, tempt me not with thy sight, 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Hot in thy chains then — Disease and famine 

Be your common portion — Blenched be your bones! 

Where human aid shall be invoked in vain. 

[Exetmt Jirchbishop and Gualandi. 

NINO. 

What said he, father ? 

UGOLINO [aside]. 
I have been too rash 
To stake more lives than mine. My choleric mood 
Was up, and could not brook his odious sight. 
I must await the morrow. 'Till it comes, 
I must collect my scattered thoughts. Too well 
I know his vengeful nature — yet this gold 
Will hang about his heart, and must be his, 
Even at my price. [Ji hammering noise is heard below. 

GADDO. 

Father, they are barring up the outer gate — 
Dost thou not hear — below — o' the Tower ? 

ANSELMUCCO. 

I thought you said, dear father, they had brought us food. 

UGOLINO \clasps his hands to his head as he hears the 

strokes}. 
May God be merciful unto us all! [Scene drojjs. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 71 



ACT IV.— SCENE I. 

Public Square. 
Enter Anselmo, Bartoli, Monzano. 

BARTOLI. 

Fair gentlemen — good den — ye are well met — 

I have some notice for your private ear. 

You are not trusted — and to morrow's sun, 

When set, will set a watch on me, on you, 

And many of our friends. The Archbishop, sirs. 

Is fearful we may come to harm, and so. 

When darkness comes, dark lanterns will come too. 

And follow us. This from a trusty friend 

I have. 

ANSELMO. 

'Tis making light of us, at least. 
Three days are past since audience was given 
To the Ambassadors — And all the world 
Cries, ^ where's the council, why doth it not meet, 
To liberate our countrymen ?' In truth. 
It seems, the council soon may have a lack 
Of councillors. A jealous tyrant's word 
Comes just before the blow. Yet, 'tis most strange 
I have but now a message from his grace, 
By Count Gualandi. These were his own words — 
'His grace desires your friendly ear at noon. ' 
And being now near noon, I to the palace 
Hied me, as I met you. 



72 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



MONZANO. 

Then he will act, 
And promptly. But he will sound you first — lest 
Some false move should mar his game. 

ANSELMO. 

The council, 
Too, he added, would be straightway summoned 
For to morrow at the close of day. See, 
Noon stands above our heads. I must away. [Exit. 

BARTOLI. 

The times are keen, and they must be ere long 

More crooked or more straight. Fve learnt but now, 

From Lambruschini, captain of the guard, 

His grace is ruffled to the highest point. 

And swears to sift the grain from out the chaff. 

He has been strangely moved — and hardly sleeps 

0' nights. My kinsman, Lambruschini, says, 

He'll make the bravest tyrant Italy 

Has known. But this [showing' a letter}, Monzano, most 

concerns 
Us now. A trusty hand hath brought me this. 

MONZANO [reads], 
*The dame Giannotta 's near Gualandi Tower.' 
And here's the secret mark. 'Tis him! Why now 
I breathe again. Why this Bargello, sir, 
Is but a dolt — and has no eyes. 

BARTOLI. 

Nay, nay, 
There is a providence in this. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 73 



MONZANO. 

And now 
What is your purpose ? 

BARTOLI. 

Sir, I sent him word, 
To morrow, at the middle afternoon, 
I would be there — that all was safe — and begged 
That he would keep it so. We touch upon 
The very verge of danger — even he 
Is perilled. Snares are set around, as if 
A lion prowled abroad to spring our gates. 
There is a vigilance observed without, 
That nought could 'scape. 'Tis providence 
Hath wrought it thus — for but another day 
Deferred, had shut him out, and every hope 
Of freedom for us all. Now we must be 
Both provident and vigilant and firm. 
To 'scape a snaring too. 

MONZANO. 

I'll go with you. 
For if to-morrow set its spies on us. 
We must be timely. 

BARTOLI. 

'Tis after sunset 
'Twill be done, if it is done at all. First, 
We shall know the purport of this council. 
In such sharp times, events come on so quick. 
They tread each other down. And every hour 
Must fashion its own thoughts to action. [Exeunt. 



K 



74 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

SCENE II. 

e/?n Apartment in the Palace. 

Enter Archbishop. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

I will not think on it. 'Tis now too late — 
And would not serve. Was it not he that stabbed, 
And let the precious blood from out the veins 
Of mine own child ? 'Twas he that bore the rule 
In Pisa then. 'The Archbishop's nephew 's slain!* 
Men said no more — as if indeed to me 
A nephew was less dear than unto them. 
That nephew was my child — my only child — 
And deeply did I swear to take revenge — 
And dearly have I taken it. No more — 
I'll think no more about it. Why should I 
Thus rack my feelings with a vain remorse? 
The time is past to help them now — and I 
Must use it in my own behalf. The days 
Perplex me — and the nights, they but renew 
This weakness of my nerves — that makes me start 
At shadows, when most need I have to brace, 
And make me firm, against mine enemies. 
They are both numerous and bold. Ere long, 
I'll pounce on some of them, and cover o'er 
Remembrance of this thing, with blood of theirs. 

Enter Officer. 

OFFICER. 

Captain Anselmo waits, an' please your grace, 
Your pleasure. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 75 



ARCHBISHOP. 

And here comes one I've marked. But I must mask 

Myself in courtesies, and smiles, and words 

Of golden aspect — for they are a coin, 

That pass as well as gold, when princes choose. 

Enter Anselmo. 

I have sent for ye, brave captain, that you 

May know I do esteem you well. 'Tis true 

You have upon occasions ruffled me, 

But I have thought on this — And now I see 

I did you wrong. Your soldier's nature, sir, 

Comes with a frankness that's unknown to us, 

Who are bred in courts, and are apt to mix 

Some alloy with our honesty. But you 

Deal in pure gold, and should receive such back. 

And since I've done ye wrong, let me entreat 

Your kinder thoughts of me, who feel more joy 

To do ye right. I ask ye not to take 

A prince's favour at my hand, — 'tis more 

Than that I offer — my affection, sir — 

A friend's devotion in all honest things. 

ANSELMO. 

Your grace o'erpowers me — I cannot coin 
Out words to express my feelings, sir. And least 
Of all, can I return, in honour, such 
A noble boon. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Our friendship shall unite. 
To give our country strength — this common cause 
Unites all loyal citizens. — But we 



76 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Are bound by stronger ties than that, if such 
May be. Yet still, when a true Ghibelline 
Speaks to the loyalest of Ghibellines, 
As you have ever been, another tie, 
One that encompasses all Italy, 
Binds us together — And a glorious bond 
It is, and much I fear that it wants friends, 
Or soon may want them. 

ANSELMO. 

Ay? What means your grace ? 

ARCHBISHOP. 

These Guelphs are busy, sir. Aldobrandi — 
He is a Guelph at heart — He 's found the vvay. 
To ride there on the light opinions 
Of our poor countrymen in Genoa. 
The stupid fickle herd in Pisa casts 
Its cap before him. What, sir, shall happen. 
When we have strained our purses hard, to bring 
Ten thousand angry Guelphs within our walls ? 

[Anselmo agitated. 
I knew 'twould move your Ghibelline spirit well. 

ANSELMO. 

I am a Ghibelline — and I have borne 
A trusty and a constant Ghibelline sword. 
When I was younger, I too should have said, 
*Find me a Guelph — Pll find an enemy!' 
But I have travelled up the scale of life 
So high, that all the hills and vales and seas 
Of human passions mingle and confound 
Themselves unto a barren point : whereat 
I am more fain to go still higher ; where 
The realm of justice and humanity 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 77 

And charity is found. And I do say, 

'Twere better far, my Lord, to let these Guelphs, 

If they be such, come home, than rot in chains. 

For they are Pisan citizens — and more 

It might become a soldier here to urge. 

Since they 're her soldiers too. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

You have said well, 
Good captain, but the Ghibelline cause 

AN'SELMO. 

Ay, sir, 
The Ghibelline cause — and the Guelph cause — too true — 
These words are Italy's reproach, and they 
Have drowned her in her children's blood. What, sir, 
Is any cause but one? The country's cause! 
And even these most sacred words too oft 
Are prostituted, for the selfish ends 
Of tyrants, or of low born churls; who chouse. 
With well set phrases, golden promises. 
The unsuspecting credulous multitude — 
First of their honest judgment — freedom next. 
And then to hold secure the unholy rule. 
Corruption and the sword are set at work. 
Most reverend sir, I hold in all respect 
Your grace's love — and when Anselmo's sword, 
Or counsel can betide his country's cause, 
You may command them. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Honest Anselmo, 
I shall hold your promise dear. \_Exit Anselmo.] Coun- 
try's cause! 
Ay, I will give it cause ere long — to know — 
To know that I am Pisa's master. [Exit. 



78 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



SCENE III. 

Chamber of the Gualandi Tower. 

Ugolino; Gaddo, Uguccione, Nino, Anselmuccio, his sons; 
all pale and weak. Anselmuccio lying on the ground. 
Nino leaning against the wall. Ugolino on one side — his 
hands clasped in agony, looking to heaven. 

UGUCCIONE. 

Gaddo, sweet Gaddo — patience, patience! see 
How those most pitying tears fall from his eyes. 
Let us not move him further — 'tis for us 
He weeps. 

GADDO. 

Ay, and those precious little ones, 
Those jewels of the centre of his heart, 
That fraudful famine now would steal from him. 
Oh! I will be patient — Oh yes, I will. 
For 5'^our sake, Guccio, for my noble sire, 
I will restrain me — be insensible 
To all the horrors of this dreadful place. 
If I could be alive and dead at once. 

NINO {faintly^ 
Gaddo — see, my father cries — he's hungry — 
Wont they bring us something soon to eat — say ? 
And Anselmuccio 's crying too — But I 
Have not been hungry since I dreamed last night. 
I wish I were though, for I feel quite strange. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 79 



GADDO. 

Hush, dearest Nino, and come here to me ; 
It is for us he weeps. 

NINO [^advancing to Gaddo], 

Oh Gaddo, help! {^Falls down. 

GADDO. 

What, sweet one, art' so weak — nay then look up, 

And lean thyself on dearest Gaddo's breast. {Raises him. 

See there's our father looking at us. 

UGOLINO [looking at them, and clasping his hands'], 

God! 
Are thy just eyes then turned away from us, 
Or, in the depths of thine own counsel, thus 
Dost preparation make for some great good, 
Beyond the scope and view of our weak minds ? 
I dare not speak to them! *tis the fourth day 
Since we have looked on food. All hope is fled. 
Excuse and consolation — all alike 
Exhausted. One short word can comprehend 
All that the tyrant priest will send us now — 
And that is death — death, that I've looked upon 
Too oft perhaps, and dealt too largely in — 
With him too — and the turn is come, when he 
And fate may think to square accounts with me. 
But here I die ten thousand deaths each day. 
There's not a pang of these dear innocents, 
But stretches me upon the rack. My soul. 
And body too, are tortured by this fiend. 
This is not retribution. — Oh my God, 
Let fall thy wrath on me, but spare my babes! 
I am not heard ! Famine alone reigns here. 
I am grown hoarse with bellowing aloud 



80 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

For help. I am forsaken — God and man 
Have barred the doors of mercy on me. What! 
Shall this most foul, most horrible of deaths 
Pass, without gracing of a dear revenge ? 
Thou monstrous, murderous priest ! 

l^Gnaws his hand in a rage. Children run to him. 

ANSELMUCCIO. 

Oh father dear, 
I pray thee do not this — thou clothedst us 
With this most miserable flesh — and now 
Do thou, to stay thy hunger, eat of this. 

[Averts his head, and offers his arm. 

UGOLINO \_hides his face in his hands']. 
Come near to me, beloved ones, and dry 
A father's tears. It is for ye I feel, 
Not for my miserable self My grief 
Was rash. Our God hath not abandoned us. 
The cruel tyrant that hath mewed us up. 
Hath left me rich in my dear children's love. 
Cheer up, my Nino. Gaddo, thou art more 
Than son to me — dear Anselmuccio too, 
And sweetest Guccio. Come, come, to my arms, 
Not even famine can divide us now. [Embraces them. 

NINO. 

Sweet father, now I love to look on thee — 
I was afraid before. But now thou smilest, 
And kissest us so tenderly — indeed . 
I could be well content to die at once. 
I had a dream last night akin to death, 
And in that dream I was right happy too. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 81 



UGOLINO. 

Come tell it, my brave son. 

[ They sit on the floor, he in the midst. 

NINO. 

I was oppressed 
With hunger's fiercest pains, when the sun set. 
The rivulets too, from Casentin's green hills, 
That gently trickle down to Arno's bed — 
Cooling their channels as they murmur on — 
Were ever present to my longing eyes. 
Much weeping, I supj^ose, brought me to sleep. 
When I awoke, some how as if I'd fled, 
I seemed, from out this Tower. My spirit felt 
An airy lightness in it, as I've thought 
The butterflies must feel, when they rove on 
From flower to flower. It seemed as if I flew ; 
And though I had no wings, I felt as gay, 
And happy, as a butterfly could do. 
In what fair land I was, I knew not then. 
The mild and beauteous orient sapphire hue. 
Which the serene expanse disclosed around, 
Far as the pure ethereal spreads to heaven. 
Struck my delighted eyes. The golden sun 
Within the glorious expanse was not; 
But in his place four brilliant stars I saw. 
Joyous the heaven appeared with these fair lights. 
Wondering I gazed, like to a new born thing. 
Unconscious and incredulous alike. 
Sudden a noble voice broke on my ear ; 
And turning round, I saw a gracious form. 
Announcing dignity and high command. 
His silvery beard was long, and white his hair. 
Mixed, they together venerably flowed, 
Adown his breast, in full and ample folds 
L 



82 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

The rays of those four sacred lights of heaven, 
Fell with such wondrous splendour on his face, 
That even his aspect dazzled like the sun. 
Moving his venerable locks, 'Fair child,' 
He said, ' the precincts of thy earthly home. 
By thee are past for ever, and to me 
Is given, to guide thee in a fairer land, 
Where death can make no spoils.' 

UtiOLINO. 

The child 's inspired ! 

NINO. 

Now, with my guide, most reverently I bent 

My steps, along a pleasant mountain's side, 

Laved by a tranquil and a boundless sea. 

And as I mused where such an ocean went, 

Lo now, a light, quick moving o'er the wave. 

Came on, outstripping the most rapid flight. 

Scarce was my eye an instant turned from thence, 

To speak my guide, when suddenly it seemed 

Larger, and still more brilliant than before. 

Something of white at length I could discern, 

And then methought 'twas one had wings within. 

My guide, who hitherto had silence kept. 

Knew well the galliot which now approached. 

And cried, 'Haste, bend down thy knees to the ground. 

And clasp thy hands. Lo! here an angel comes! 

God's minister thine eyes shall now behold. 

See how of him are human means disdained : 

His bark he urges not with oars or sails, 

But with his outstretched pinions gains the shore. 

See how they 're firmly fixed, erect towards heaveii. 

Catching the air with his eternal plumes. 

That like material wings, are never changed.' 

As he approached, downwards I cast my eyes. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 83 

Unable to sustain the extreme of light. 
The seraph reached the shore. His nimble bark 
Was light, and sank not on the wave's soft breast. 
The heavenly pilot stood upon the poop; 
His front was radiant with beatitude. 
More than an hundred spirits sat within. 
^ When Israel out of Egypt fled/ they sang, 
With one full swelling melody, and poured 
That soul inspiring anthem to the skies. 
Then did the angel sign the holy cross, 
Whereat they instant leaped upon the shore. 
And he returned, like lightning, as he came. 

UGOLINO. 

'Tis inspiration, rather than a dream ! 

NINO. 

Sweet father, but the best of it 's to come. 

UGOLINO. 

Speak on, my eloquent beloved one. 

NINO. 

The gentle spirits that were thus arrived. 

Seemed timid as young fawns, ere they have dared, 

In coppice ground, to crop the rustling leaves. 

They looked around, and when they saw my guide. 

They shrunk as if they feared to give offence. 

Nor till they heard his mild and gracious voice. 

Were they assured ; but when he beckoned them. 

They came to where we stood. As they approached, 

A strange, ungovernable, yet most sweet 

And happy feeling thrilled my inmost soul. 

xA. longing and a keen desire ; a new 

Anticipation of a thing, both good 

And welcome, though unknown, came o'er me. 



84 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Often I'd heard men speak of happiness, 
And I believed that I should know it now. 
I felt a love unto these gentle shades, 
Not like to mortal love j and as I smiled. 
And looked on them, wondering, I first perceived 
They breathed not, neither bore their mortal flesh : 
And stranger still, I found 'twas so with me. 
Then I began to think that I was dead. 
And that I ne'er again should hear or see 
My dearest father, and my brothers here. 
Whilst I was musing on this wondrous change, 
One of the fairest spirits rushed i' the front. 
Where I was with our guide, and, in his arms, 
Clasped me v/ith such afiectionate desire. 
That I was moved to fold him too in mine. 
'Twas Anselmuccio, our dear brother here. 
Thrice with my arms I clasped the spirit round. 
And to my breast thrice vacant they returned — 
An airy phantom, but in aspect true. 

ANSELMUCCIO. 

Oh Nino, I'm so glad that I was there. 

NINO. 

Ay, and dear Guccio, and our Gaddo too, 
You were all there. I knew ye not at first : 
Spirits, as 1 beheld them, look so fair 
And bright, that my true love recognized you, 
More than my eyes. 

UGOLINO. 

I was not there, oh God ! \Jigitated. 

GADDO. 

Sweet Nino, stop thy dream, behold our sire! 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 85 



UGOLINO. 

Nay, Gaddo, let me hear and know the worst. 
If this indeed be prophecy, as well 
It suits me now to think ; if I must die 
Eternal death, nor visit those fair shores, 
Where you are gathered ; then 'twould mercy be, 
To know the fatal truth, and die at once. 

NINO \_kissi7ig his father]. 
Hear me, dear Gaddo, whilst my spirit's strong; 
And as my love is true to you, dear sire, 
So shall I truly now relate my dream. 
Onwards we went, until our guide exclaimed, 
'Behold, fair spirits, how the day declines! 
And as by night we may not climb the mount, 
'Tis well to find some pleasant place of rest. 
Not far upon the right, some other shades 
Are met ; I'll bring you there forthwith.' 
When but some little distance we had gone, 
I soon perceived the mountain sloped adown, 
As in our earthly vales the hills oft sink. 
* There in the mountain's lap,' our guide exclaimed, 
'We'll go, and there await the new born day.' 
Along the brink, a gentle winding path 
Led us unto the border of the place. 
Where died the slope midway into the vale. 
There on the verdant earth, reclined, I saw 
The shades our guide had spoken of anon, — 
' Salve Regina,' pouring to the skies. 
And as I gazed intent, the sainted host. 
Of grave and reverend persons seemed composed. 
And then my thoughts, dear father, turned to you ; 
But not in sorrow ; sorrow is unknown 
Beyond the grave — save where 'tis nought but woe. 
This from our guide I learnt, who said, 'Behold 



86 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

The vale of penitents, and this the mount 

Of Purgatory, where are cleansed the souls 

Of those, who, deeply stained with mortal guilt. 

Yet died, invoking blessed Jesu's name. 

Amongst the pilgrim penitents ye see, 

Is one, who, when ye've gained the mountain's top, 

Shall enter with you into endless joy — 

But not till then. The parent and the child. 

Where they forever meet, is Paradise, 

And at its gates you'll meet your noble sire. 

UGOLINO. 

Nay, then, man's wrath is harmless, let it fall — 
And welcome death, since it's the door of life. 
To be with you, my lovely ones, in realms 
Where sin, and guilt, and mortal pain 's unknown ; 
Living like little children, in the smiles 
Of one approving common parent, God — 
Can I look forward to such bliss? Alas! 
Sweet Nino, much thy dream doth move me — Still 
'Tis but a dream. And did it end here, child ? 

NINO. 

And now the solemn strain at length was hushed ; 

When of the shades, I one observed, arise 

And wave his hand, for silence, to the rest. 

Both palms he closed, and raised towards the east. 

And both his eyes intently fixed that way. 

^Telucis ante,' it devoutly sang, 

With such transporting tones, my soul was thrilled— 

The rest devoutly raised their eyes to heaven. 

And with soft voices, and with pious warmth. 

Did follow it throughout the sacred hymn. 

The chant being done, the saintly host still kept 

Their eyes, in silence fixed, intent on heaven. 

As if by reverent expectation filled. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 87 

When issuing from the skies and darting down, 
Two angels I beheld, bearing along 
Two flaming swords. Most radiant were their brows- 
Green were their garments, like to budding leaves. 
Borne up by wings of verdant plumes, that fanned. 
And trained their vestments in the air behind. 
Adown their heads bright golden tresses fell ; 
But on the splendour of each glorious face. 
Vain 'twere to look. In a defenceless part 
Of this small vale, an evil serpent came, 
Gliding along, amidst the herbs and flowers. 
Of that fair lawn. But though I saw them not. 
The bright celestial falcons darted off; 
For well I knew that they were sudden gone, 
Feeling the air cleft by their verdant wings. 
The serpent fled, and soon in rapid flight, 
The guardians both returned, and took their post. 
And now the deepest shades of night came on ; 
When the dead silence that prevailed was broke. 
By sounds, that gently crept upon the ear. 
Of a celestial music. Soon it rose 
To harmonies so blissful, and so keen. 
My raptured senses could no longer hold, 
And as I struggled with them, I awoke. 

TjGOLiNO [t'ises']. 
It is most wonderful! that such a child 
Could think or speak such things ; and in a strain 
More suiting prophecy by one inspired. 
Than such a youngling. I have sneered at priests, 
Who call themselves the ministers of heaven; 
And suffered their foul vices to entrap 
My soul, into a fatal negligence 
Of him who made it.' Now, he speaks to me; 
Not through the carnal instrument that man 
Hath wrought into an idol, and hath placed, 
Most wrongfully, betwixt him and his God — 



88 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

As if 'twere better trusting priests, who are made 

Of mortal weaknesses like us, than trust 

Our hearts, as true interpreters with him — 

Now, at the moment when my soul 's at stake. 

The voice of God comes to me, through a babe 

That knows no guile, and my heart hears the voice. 

That brings glad tidings to a shipwrecked soul. 

My life hath not been just — deep am I stained, 

With guilt that mad ambition wrought me to. 

The lust of power hath seen me trample on 

Fair rights too often, that a juster sword 

Would have protected — and power should be just. 

Or else it wars against both God and man. 

He who prefers theenjoyment of an hour 

Purchased by wrongs, and unatoned in heart. 

Pays in eternity. It is God's law. 

Eternity ! thou awful word ! How vain 

The attempt, to poise the world and all its pomps, 

In the great balance with eternity. 

How few have meted out a just regard 

To both — making the first, a worthy scale. 

To climb unto the crowning point of all. 

May God be gracious to me, and to mine! 

I was a blind — and he hath oped my eyes. 

Farewell, false world ! farewell to all its lures ! 

And farewell, pride of house, and ancient name! 

For Ugolino's generations, here. 

Famine makes nought, and blights in general death. 

Farewell, last weakness of my heart, revenge! 

I'm brought to bay at last, but by my sins — 

Which if I dare to look on, it is God, 

Who through this babe doth comfort me in it. 

ANSELMUCCIO. 

Were there no little angels in thy dream, 
Dear Nino? lliou knowcsl that ni pii^tures, 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. S9 

We have often seen the smiling cherubs, 

With their beauteous wings — tell me, dear Nino. 

[^Nino sivoons. 
Are children ever angels, father ? 

UGOLINO [moved']. 

Yes, 
My beloved, you will all be angels. 

ANSELMUCCIO. 

What, shall we die before we 're grown to men ? 

UGOLINO. 

Oh gracious heaven, strengthen me, I pray ! 

ANSELMUCCIO. 

See, father, Nino does not speak, 

UGOLINO. 

My child! 
He faints — Help here — Alas! there is no help! 

GADDO. 

He breathes, and opes his eyes again — 

NINO. 

Oh dear! 
What, am I here again ? 'Twas but just now 
I had that music in my ears once more. 
And now it comes upon me louder still — 
Oh heavens! oh rapture! father! brothers! hear! 
I fly — oh follow me — oh follow me. [Dies. 

[They kneel around him, and the curtain drops. 



M 



90 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



ACT v.— SCENE I. 

View of Pisa. Baitistery, Leaning Tower, 4'C. <S"C. 
Giannottci' s cottage.^ at some distance, in the view. 

Enter Buffalmacco. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Now where the deuce does this widow of Ephesus live? 
She said it was near the Gualandi Tower — but the word 
'near' is pretty much like the word 'dear,' — it doesn't 
always mean the same thing. A man sometimes says to 
his wife, 'My dear, I wish you wouldn't make such a 
noise!' which means, 'Curse you, mistress! what do you 
make such a noise for?' And, again, when he says, 'My 
dear, 1 can't pay your bills, I've got no money to pay 
them!' he means, 'You 're such a dear wife, you cost me 
so much, that, oh dear, I'll be cursed if I've got any mo- 
ney!' And so it is with that little match to it 'near.' 
When Padre Donato got the mulligrubs with eating his 
own ram cat, that my pious godson was kind enough to 
skin for him ; father Clistero, the convent apothecary, told 
me he was very near going to heaven. Now I wonder 
how far it is from their convent to heaven, and how long 
a reasonably slow friar may be on the journey ; particu- 
larly if he has got the strongest ram cat in Pisa in his 
paunch, excepting always himself. I should say if such 
a saint as Padre Donato was so very near to heaven, such 
a sinner as myself is in great danger of falling into it every 
instant of his life. Why this is the most dangerous world 
ipon! At this rate I shall never find this 



DEATH OF UCrOLINO. 91 

cottage. Here 's a hundred of them. Some a mile off, 
and some here and some there. I shall never find it unless 
I go and ask, that is most certain — for I suppose the last 
miracle San Ranieri will perform this season, will be to 
send the cottage to find me. A plague on the blubbering 
widow and her soldado husband! I'll go back and finish 
my picture of Saint Satanasio, in the Archbishop's robes. 
Here comes that blessed imp of deformity, Pippo. 

Enter Pippo. 

PIPPO [touching his cap']. 
Buon giorno, Messer Buffalmacco — Padrone. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Good day, Pippo, good day [Pippo going]. Here, 
Pippo, are you going to market, Signor Pippo [seri- 
ously/] ? 

PIPPO. 

Oh, Messer, I've got nothing to sell — I wish I had — if 
it was only a cat — I could soon get it off. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Can't you try to get that off, Pippo [j)ointing to his 
hum]!] ? 

PIPPO [cmgry]. 
Anima bouza 

BUFFALMACCO [taking him by the arm]. 
Here, Pippo, stop, man, there — there's apiece of money 
for you, to make us friends. 

PIPPD. 

Thank you, Messer Buffalmacco, thank you. 



92 DEATH OF TJGOLTNO 



BUPFALMACCO. 

Did you keep those secrets I told you ? 

PIPPO. 

Oh Messer! you wasn't in earnest about the Doge, was 
you? 

BUPFALMACCO. 

Oh yes, I was. I was in earnest. I wouldn't tell a lie 
about the Doge — he's the only honest man in Genoa — his 
fingers you know are so short that he can't steal. 

PIPPO. 

That's true, cospetto! 

BUPFALMACCO. 

You wouldn't like to have such short fingers, Pippo ? 

PIPPO. 

Messer Buffalmacco! do you know who lives there 
[pointing to a cottage] ? Don't you remember Monna 
Notta, that was crying about her husband Francesco ? 
Monna Notta lives there. 

BUPFALMACCO. 

Why this is San Ranieri's doings — this is sending the 
cottage with a vengeance to me. I must remember the 
saint for this civility. 

PIPPO. 

Messer Buffalmacco! would you like to know a secret? 
It has got no short fingers to it, though the Bargello's 
claws will be in it to night. I was going this morning to 
tell Monna Notta that I couldn't hear any news about her 
husband. So I went quietly up to the door, thinking I 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 93 

would surprise her, and looking in at the key hole, I saw 
a long legged woman sitting near the fire. I thought it was 
Monna Paula first — but it wasn't her. Why, lord, she had 
a voice more like a clap of thunder than Monna Paula's. 
And then she called Monna Notta — ' dear Giannotta,' and 
then there were so many 'dear Giannottas,' and I don't 
know what else, that at last I found it out — It was a man ! 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Well done, my weeping widow bewitched! 

PIPPO. 

And who do you think it was now, MesserBufialmacco, 
after all ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why, Pippo, thou hast puzzled me atlast. I cannot tell. 

PIPPO. 

No more can I, if I would be saved. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why, doesn't thou know who it was ? 

PIPPO. 

No more than you know how many friars the devil 
turns out of his kitchen. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Thou varlet, thou art paying me off then ! 

PIPPO. 

No, Messer, Tonetto 's the devil's paymaster. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why, thou 



94 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



PIPPO. 

Come, Messer, let's be quits now. And so I crept away 
again from the door. And as I was going down one of the 
little streets that lead out into Lung' Arno, I met Pontani, 
the Bargello ; and he began talking to me and talking to 
ine — and if I knew this man and if I knew that man ; and 
so I told him what I had seen ; and he gave me this to hold 
my tongue, and told me to come here and watch the man 
— woman ; and that he would meet me here at dark — and 
that's just what brought me here, Messer Buffalmacco. 

BUPFALMACCO. 

And so thou hast taken up an honourable employment: 
ruffiano to the Bargello, eh ? 

PIPPO. 

Curse the Bargello! I hate the Bargello and all the 
sbirri, they 're always gibing at me~but he promised to 
give me some more money. 

BUPFALMACCO [ciside']. 

All alike, all alike — Humps, and no humps, Money! 
that's the tune to dance to. Curse the Bargello and the 
sbirri, I say too! Blood thirsty hounds! I can't believe 
this widow is a wanton — She is too old. I promised to 
serve her, and I may serve her for aught I know, more 
than I am aware of. This imp 's as wicked as hell, and 
the Bargello 's as cunning as the devil, and it 's as likely as 
not he will be here in a quarter of an hour, as well as at 
sunset. I'll go and warn her. But how shall I get rid 
of this essence of ungodliness ? Here, Pippo — here 's a 
pezzetto that Pll give thee if thou'lt go an errand for me. 

PIPPO. 

That I will, Messer. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 95 



BUFPALMACCO. 

Run to the convent of the Carmelites, and tell Padre 
Ghiottone, the prior, that Buffalmacco will sup with them 
to night, if they will put off supper an hour. And then 
stop at my house till I come, and I'll give thee the pez- 
zetto. [Exii Pippo. ] It will almost kill the Carmelites to 
put their supper off an hour — but they will do any thing 
for my company. I owe them one, and I may as well pay 
it to them now as another time — The last time I was there, 
they let me go home alone, at three o' clock in the mornin«-, 
and in the dark, without compass or rudder, and a whole 
cargo of Aleatico on board. Ghiottone wanted to excuse 
himself the next day, by saying that it 's against the rules 
for the convent to go out when it is drunk. They shall 
wait, and I wont go near them. I'll deny the whole mat- 
ter, and so Pippo's shoulders will get a glorious benedic- 
tion the next time he goes into that holy larder. 



SCENE II. 
Inside of GiannottcCs Cottage. 
GiAiNNOTTA spinning. 

GIANNOTTA. 

Oh dear, what a miserable woman I am — there's some- 
thing terrible hanging about my spirits, but whatis going to 
happen I cannot tell. I have heard them often say, that mis- 
fortunes arc felt before they befall us, as though there was 
some good or evil spirit ahout us that saw into future things. 
And that well may be — and be a good spirit too. I re- 
member how finhappy I was, just before I heard of the de- 



96 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

feat of our fleet, when poor Francesco was made a prisoner 
— but then I had been very unhappy ever since he went 
away. And now I have been very unhappy ever since I 

have had to conceal But hush, I must not trust even 

my lips with that — And then hearing nothing of Francesco 
when the Ambassadors came. Besides the horrid noises 
that I have heard coming from the Gualandi Tower — such 
bellowings — such screams — I could not sleep o' nights. 
Marry! give orders for nobody to go near the Tower! I 
wonder who — Count Gualandi thinks — would go near it, 
when such a wicked tyrant as, they say, Count Ugolino is, is 
shut up there, and keeps frightening the whole country, as 
he does, with his horrible shouts. I didn't hear them last 
night though. I wouldn't live here, and be obliged to hear 
such screamings day and night as I have heard, for all the 
wealth in Pisa. Of all the things on earth, what frightens 
me most, is a human voice, when I don't know where it 
comes from. 

BUFFALMAcco [(it tlic ciisenient, in a law voice]. 
Monna Nolta! 

\Giannotta shrieks and falls on thejioor. 

Enter Gvmo., Bartoli, M.o^zxno, with sioords draivn.,fromiui 
inner apartment. 

GUIDO. 

Speak, dame, what has alarmed you ? 

GIANNOTTA. 

Oh, sir, Count Ugolino 

BARTOLI. 

Whatofliie Count? speak, instantly 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 97 



GIANNOTTA [tO Guido']. 

You know what horrid noises, sir, have come from the 
Gualandi Tower both night and day ; and as I live, 'twas 
but this instant the Count pushed the casement open, and 
called out in his horrid voice, 'Monna Notta:' so I thought 
I should have died, and then I screamed and fell. 

GUIDO. 

There's something in this — -the casement is open as she 
has said. [ Thei/ rush out of the door and re-enter with 
Buffalmacco, 

GUIDO \io Bartoli]. 
Is this some spy ? 

BARTOLI. 

Why this is Messer Buffalmacco, sirs. 

GUIDO. 

And what does he do here ? 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Not act the spy on you, Madonna ; for your manner of 
taking a gentleman by the throat will betray you before I 
shall. Oh Lord! I wish you had such short fingers as 
the doge of Genoa \feeling his throat^. 

GUIDO. 

What does he mean ? Speak, sir, to the purpose ! If 
yours is an honest one, let us have it. If not, you ne'er 
shall quit this place alive. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Alive, Sir! I hope to be alive along while — and to see 
you in honour, in any place where you may deserve to be. 

N 



98 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Count Bartoli, and noble Monzano, I bespeak me your 
good offices. That lady has mistaken my throat for origi- 
nal sin. She couldn't have squeezed it harder, if she had 
had it all in her hand. Ugh — Agh [grmni7ig']. 

MONZANO. 

Speak, Buffalmacco, trifle not with us, 

I pray thee — thou knowest not what impends. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Why, sirs, if I am playing Signor Troppo here, I must 
amend my fault and quickly too. I knew not ye were 
here, but I learnt a while ago, that the imp Pippo had in- 
formed the Bargello [all listen with interest^ he had seen 
a man in woman's disguise, in Monna Notta's house, and 
that the Bargello had sent him to watch, until he should 
meet him here at dark. I had put some jokes on poor 
Monna Notta, and I thought to make my peace, by telling 
her how near the Bargello wanted to be with Messer Fran- 
cesco's wife — and that is e'en all Buffalmacco 's got to say. 

MONZANO. 

Now, Buffalmacco, we will trust thee. Here — 
Take this gentleman, so in disguise, home 
To thy house, and keep him. there awhile. Soon 
We Avill relieve thee of thy charge. And then, 
I promise thee a gentleman's reward. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Lord, sir, then put him in a litter, and say he's brought 
to bed of one of Buffalmacco's jokes. If he had not gras- 
ped me so by the throat, I should say he had more of the 
gentleman than the lady in him, and so would every body 
else. Why he strides like all the knights of the Round 
Table! I would as soon undertake to walk down the 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 99 

Lung' Arno alongside of him, and call him Madonna, as I 
would to walk up it with a comet in my hand. 

BARTOLI. 

Hast thou some better thought ? What dost thou say ? 

BTJPPALMACCO. 

If 'tis some pressing matter, sir — some pretty homicide 
or so — why, he can take sanctuary, you know. 

GUIDO. 

Nay, I will rather go with thee. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Then may fortune be propitious to us both. But first 
let Monna Notta make you a little more like the feminine 
gender. Come, Monna, make haste — I never knew a 
Bargello later than his time. [ Whilst they are dressing 
him, the Bargello' s face is seen peeping in at the case- 
ment. ] If that wasn't the devil's own dear self, it was 
Pontani — How to escape. \Goestothedoor. Thesbirri 
burst open the door and fill the apartment.^ 

GUIDO. 

Betrayed ! but thou shalt taste my arm again ! 

PONTANI. 

'Tis him. I know him now. Nay, gentlemen, lay down 
your arms. I have the prince's warrant to arrest all of 
whatever degree, found in this gallant's company, and if 
resistance should be made, to deal with you to death — so 
choose. 

BARTOLI. 

Show me that warrant first. 



100 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 



PONTANI. 

Here it is. 

BARTOLI. 

Take my sword. To resist were vain — and mad where 
no crime is. {Surrender their swords.] 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Ah Pontani — Buon giorno, Pontani — always in active 
service, Pontani. The prince has an active officer in you, 
Pontani — ^What is 't o' clock ? I was going to sup at the 
Carmelites' — I wouldn't make the good friars wait for the 
world. I like to be punctual at supper, especially where 
friars are — I hate to say an anchorite's grace, ' God bless 
the bones.' Addio [^trying to get off\ 

PONTANI. 

Signor Buffalmacco — you were kind enough to say the 
prince had an active officer in me. The friars will wait 
supper for you [nodding significantly]. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Oh no, depend upon it, they never 



PONTANI. 

I met Pippo — he told me you had sent him off my 
watch, with a message to the friars to wait an hour — and 
so I fancy you will have a full good hour to spare. In the 
mean time, we will take a walk to town if you please. 
You can walk between these two gentlemen. [ Two sbirri 
take him by the collar. ] 

BUFFALMACCO \to the sbirri]. 
Have you got long or short fingers ? I wonder if Pippo 
[aside] told them how I love them — I dare say he did. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 101 

Oh that imp of darkness — he has done all this. Here, 
Pontani, wont you take the cat there ? 

PONTANI. 

No, Messer. I'm too good a housekeeper for that. 
When the cat 's away, the mice will play. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

Ha, ha, ha. That's a good joke, Pontani, Ha, ha, ho, 
you blood-thirsty scoundrel, you [aside']. [Exeunt. 



SCENE HI. 

The Council Boom. 

Enter Archbishop, Anselmo, and others of the Council. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Somewhat we have delayed, most noble sirs. 

Our present council. We have, by pondering 

More advisedly on the urgent state which 

Our affairs, as well in Genoa as here. 

Have ta'en, brought to a more mature, more clear 

Digested state of thought, the remedy for these. 

In short, my lords, to sum it up in brief. 

It is our present thought, that in this long 

Protracted bondage of our countrymen. 

Most for our honour it would be — and that 

Implies the public happiness, for where 

Honour is not, neither can happiness 

Be known — to keep our Castro, and redeem 

These bonds with gold. Now comes the pressure, sirs. 

Where are the golden keys to unlock these chains ? 



102 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

These are no trifling treasures we must have. 

We have to deal with keen and wary men. 

These merchant lords in Genoa must have 

All courtesies due to a princely state, 

And gains to keep it up. Honour by them 

Is only honoured, when the pay is prompt. 

And when the gold is pure. He that pays true, 

And largely too — he is an honoured man. 

'Tis merchant law. Therefore we must be prompt. 

Nay prodigal, if we would move these lords 

Of trafficking, to such compassion, sirs. 

As may release our countrymen from chains. 

These then are our poor thoughts. Now it is meet, 

The council do determine straight, to keep, 

Or not, this ancient jewel of the state. 

Sismondi, Pandolfini, gentle sirs. 

Possess us of your minds in this. 

PANDOLFINI. 

We have, may it please you, sir, somewhat stirred, too. 

This matter in our thoughts. Since it appears 

The general voice — and sanctioned by your grace — 

The captive citizens consenting too, 

That it were best to pay the ransom down 

In gold, and keep that ancient monument 

Raised by the valour of our fathers — ^We 

Join in that general voice. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Noble sirs, 
The care that rests upon us now, is where 
To draw, and promptly too, these baser means 
That we must now employ. Our citizens 
Are poor — our nobles have been drained too much 
In these late wars. But we must wring again 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 103 

From our reluctant purses what is left, 
For such a cause as this. 

ANSELMO. 

A princely sum 
It was, we set apart, for this same need, 
When, as ambassadors, these noble lords 
Were sent ; and that will somewhat help to bear 
This greater burden that we now must take. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

'Twill not bear much. The urgencies of state 
In this of Genoa, and here at home 
Have drained that too. 

ANSELMO. 

What! all that gone, all drained.'' 
Nay, then, we want no drains abroad — if drains 
At home can carry ofi so fast. Ere long 
We shall be dry enough. If thus we drain. 
We shall want Castro, Pisa too to boot. 
To ransom us from beggary. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

You use 
But little reverence to us, sir. The prince 
Knows best the urgent cravings of the state, 
And you impugn his wisdom much, when thus 



Enter an Officer. 

OFFICER. 

My Lord, something of moment to your grace's 

Private ear. iConverse apart. Exit Officer. 



104 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Archbishop resumes his seat ; and after a while, 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Sirs, there is treachery abroad. We long 
Have known it. But the traitors were not known, 
At least not all. And which of ye dare swear, 
He is not in this treason to the state. 

ALL lrisi7i.g^. 
I. 

ARCHBISHOP [/o ^nselvi6\. 
And you too, sir ? 

ANSELMO. 

My sword shall vouch for me! 

ARCHBISHOP. 

'Tis well. The Count Monzano is not here, 
Nor the Count Bartoli. 

ANSELMO. 

I'll swear for them! 

ARCHBISHOP. 

You may do rashly, sir. Look to yourself. 

Ye may remember, an unknown was met 

Some days gone by — quite early in the morn, 

And he was deemed a brawler. For ourselves, 

'Twas not our thought ; but yet we favoured it. 

To lull him, and his friends too [looking at t/lnselmol, 

ay, his friends. 
To some security. For he has friends 
And careful ones ; since he has 'scaped our keen. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 105 

And constant vigilance till now. He's ta'en, 

Ay, and how ta'en? — disguised with female gear, 

As it would seem. Who has disguised him ? What! 

Are you silent, sir {to Anselmo] ? Can you not answer 

For those friends that you can swear for ? I say, 

This spy, basely disguised, he has been found, 

Most basely plotting with those very friends 

That you will swear for : Bartoli, 

Monzano : ay, sir, traitors both. Now swear, 

That thou art not a traitor too ! What ho ! 

Enter an Officer. 

Bid the Bargello bring his prisoners in. 
And hear — Let Lambruschini bring a guard 
Forthwith. I'll nip this ere the canker runs 
Ahead. 

Enter Pontani with his Prisoners^ and the Captain of the 
Guard with Soldiers. 

MONZANO. 

My lord 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Peace, villain, I will hear thee not. 
Where is this dainty gallant ? [ Guido brought forward.^ 

Quick, tear off 
This vile disguising. Thou wilt want ere long 
Thy manliness — to look on death perhaps. 

GUIDO \drawing a dagger\ 
Touch me not! 

ARCHBISHOP. 

What is thy name, thine errand ? 
Speak, or torture shall speak for thee. What — dumb? 




106 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Wilt thou not speak ? We have a way to teach 
Such sullen traitors as thou seemest to be. 

\Guido gives him scornful looks. 
Thou insolent — thou daring caitiff! Ho, 
Pontani — quick — Put him to the rack. Then — 
When thou'st got his name — rack him again, — ay, 
'Till those scornful looks are humbled — then bring 
The audacious varlet here once more. 

BARTOLi \to the Archbishop']. 

Mylord 



ARCHBISHOP. 

Peace, traitor, 'twill be thy turn next. 

GUiDO \throwing off his disguise]. 

My name! 
Guido of Montefeltro is my name. [All start and rise. 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Perdition [«52c?e]! 

GUIDO. 

Wilt thou rack me now ? ^ 

ARCHBISHOP. 

Guido \aside]\ 
[To Guido.] Can Montefeltro stoop to base disguise — 
Can Montefeltro, like a prowler, come 
At night within our walls ? Whoe'er he is 
That thus can stoop — he is not Pisa's friend — 
If not a friend — 'tis as a foe he comes. 
[To Lambruschini.] Be it your charge to guard this 

prisoner, 
In honour — till we resolte his fate. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 107 



GUIDO [showing a paper]. 

This 
Will explain, since you have asked mine errand, 
Why I come. Noble Sismondi, please ye 
Impart it to these gentlemen. 

SISMONDI [to the Archbishop]. 
My lord. 
It is a rescript by the emperor signed, 
Attested too by all the Ghibelline chiefs. 
Wherein unto the Pisan government 
Most fully is Count Guido named. 

ANSELMO. 

Then thus, 
Archbishop Ruggieri, I do give 
Thee thanks for all the traitors thou hast called 
Me here ; and do arrest thee as the worst 
Of traitors — One who. hast tampered foully 
For the lives of the state's truest friends, 
And liberties of all. Most noble sir [to Guido], 
Tliis charge I shall make good. And now, welcome, 
Most welcome, noble Montefeltro ; all 
Can join in this acclaim to Italy's 
Most cherished son, and our deliverer now. 

ALL. 

Viva — viva — viva, Montefeltro ! 

GUIDO. 

Bear him hence, and guard him well. Now let us. 
Noble gentlemen, give ye our thanks. Well 
Hath providence conducted us in this. 
And first let gentle mercy have her share 



108 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Of this contentment. Count Gualandi, you 
Have been the rigorous jailer, well I know, 
Of Ugolino and his children. Now 
Render up your keys, and let us gladden 
The wearied prisoners of that sad Tower. 

GUALANDI [agitated]. 
The Archbishop — his.... imperious commands — 
Oh deep remorse — and vain, alas, I fear [aside] ! 
Fly, gentlemen — they've had — no food — no food — 
For many days. [Presses his hands to his face. 

GUIDO. 

Great heaven ! oh haste, bring food : 
Come, sir, and guide us to this wretched place. [Exeunt. 

Manent Bupfalmacco and Pontani. 

BITFFALMACCO. 

Pontani, do you think I shall be too late to sup with <he 
friars to-night ? 

PONTANI. 

Why, Messer, I think you had better make haste and 
go. You know you told me the friars were bad waiters 
at supper. 

BUFPALMACCO. 

That's your advice, is it? 

PONTANI. 

In truth it is. 

BUFFALMACCO. 

You dont think of going there yourself, do you ? 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 109 



PONTANI. 

To the Carmelites' ! not I indeed — I'm a married man — 
and have too much regard for my character to be seen in 
such company. 

BUFPALMACCO. 

Then, Signor Pontani, to come to the point — do you 
think I had better go by myself — all alone — without any 
further ceremonies — no gentlemen ushers on each side, eh ? 

PONTANI. 

Ah, ah, Master Buffalmacco — I understand you. Oh, 
you are quite your own Master — Times are changed — 
It 's your bull 's broke into the pasture now. 

BUFFALMACCO [strutting^ 
I say, Pontani, you — Bargello — you. The prince has 
an active officer in you. You catch tartars, dont you, some- 
times? They say the Prince, not Prince Passato, Prince 
Presente I mean, gave you and four of your men the most 
ungracious benedictions you ever got in your lives. If he 
didn't like you the first time he saw you, I am afraid when 
he comes to think what an active officer you have been 

PONTANI. 

Never fear for me, Messer Buffalmacco. The Count is 
a noble and a stout gentleman, and as you say, [rubbing 
his arms'\ when he is in a pious humour, and takes it in 
his head to give benedictions, he beats all the Archbishops 
I ever knew. But he knows how to reward those who 
are faithful to their trust. Besides, the Bargello and the 
hangman arc your true pillars of the state — for they never 
go out of office. So when ever your turn comes again, 
you'll always find your friend Pontani ready to serve you. 
[Exit.^ 



no DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

BUFPALMACco [looMng after him]. 
If ever I eat a ram cat, and am near going to heaven — 
the last thing 1 should like to say, would be, ' Curse the 
Bargello and all the sbirri. ' \^Exit.'] 



SCENE IV. 
Gualandi Tower. 

Ugolino seated on the ground^ with the bodies of his four chil- 
dren drawn up around him — blind and deranged. Enter 
GuiDO of Montefeltro and the rest. 

GUIDO. 

Now may the blessed virgin hover us! 
Oh, sirs, what a most wretched sight is this! 
The noble Ugolino, as I live. 
Look on him. 

ANSELMO. 

God be merciful to them. 
That have wrought this. This doth exceed all guilt. 

MONZANO. 

Why this is more than murder — this is death 
Beyond the compassing of man. 

GUIDO. 

Hist, sirs. 

UGOLINO. 

I thought I heard a voice. It was the wind, 

That whistles through the boughs, breathing a dirge 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. ill 

Like sadness 'mongst their fluttering playmates ; 
Warning them of their fall. Autumn does this 
To all — ay, to the stoutest pine that stands ! 
Pve often heard that music in the woods 
Creeping along my ear, when I was young. 
It smelt of rosemary and death ! Yes, that 
Was in a wood of pines like this — and well 
May such be mournful — for their leaves 
Are evergreen, and cling to life. The oak 
Holds out — he moans not — 'till some pinching frost 
Sets him a clattering too, and then he gives 
The earth his spoils. So with the mortal seed 
Of Adam's race ; it falls to the ground — Death 
Gathers all. 

MONZANO. 

He looks on us, yet sees not. 

GTJIDO [putting his hands before Ugolino's eyes\ 
His sense of sight is gone, and much I fear 
His noble mind hath sunk before this storm. 

UGOLINO. 

Storm! Why winter 's coming! to be merry, 
It brings storms along with it 

GUIDO. 

Noble sir! 
Count Ugolino:! be entreated — pray — 
You are surrounded here with friends — kind friends — 
Here is food, sir. 

UGOLINO. 

Ah, that is a man's voice — 
'Tis not the melancholy wind I heard just now. 
Friends, sir! Did you say friends.^ Oh, many thanks! 



112 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

It is so long since I have seen my friends! 

Are they all well, sir ? I am henighted 

In a fearful wood, and how I got here — 

Indeed — excuse me — for I dare not look 

Back to the manner of it. Long ere this 

I would have travelled on — but it grew dark, 

And I have taken root here in the soil. , 

I was o'ertaken by a whirlwind. Sir, 

Have you not heard, when from the torrid climes, 

The furious and remorseless winds invade 

Our woods, rending their blossomed branches — how 

They make the dusty welkin roar again. 

And beasts and shepherds scour before the storm ? 

Just such a storm came maddening over me — 

I could not scour and fly as they did. 

My roots were fixed too deep. And so it stripped 

My trunk of all its branches. Here they lie. 

Scattered around mc. I had four branches. 

That were pleasing to behold. Now the stem. 

Like many a barkless and moss covered shaft. 

Shall have no company but woodpeckers — 

'Till the next blast shall tear up roots and all. 

It can be lopped no more. 'Twas pleasant though 

To hear the babbling of the little leaves, 

That every breeze of life would rustle so ! 

But they are quiet now — old age wants quiet. 

GUIDO. 

He must be gently raised — Bring here a chair 
And give him food forthwith. Nay, noble sir! 

ANSELMO. 

Come, noble Count, we are your friends — we bring you 
food. 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 113 



UGOLINO. 

Stop — I hear a noise. Why, then, shame 
To make such noises, when an old man dies. 
But still they make it. Oh ! I have it now — 
They 're barring up the outward gate of the Tower. 
Now we shall have him fast — the prelate 's caught — 
He wanted gold [laughs'], and gets an old man's bones. 
He said they should be blenched — that takes some time. 
He must be paid for that! How they all love 
This gold ! as if it were a child — and then 
It must be watched too, else it runs away. 
You 've got more gold than you can carry, sir — 
Are you going home with some, to make you glad, 
And your fair friends — or do you spend your life. 
Here in the wilderness to watch it all ? 
There were some thrift in that ! Pray, sir, take mine. 
And watch it too! I am provided for! 
But you must never sleep — not even wink — 
You must be jealous of your charge — nor let 
Your nerves be touched with charity. My word, 
She '11 put you ofi' your guard — and you may lose 
A ducat. You will want no sleep — for gold 
Is all a dream itself — and oft men wake 
From it, to wish their souls asleep for aye. 
\_Shivers'] I'd think a thousand ducats poorly paid 
For a good garment, sir — it is so cold — 
So cold — so — where is my cloak \feeling his sons] ? — ah, 

they 're here, 
I know them — This is Nino [laughing], I know him — 
How the black flies are gathering round him! 
[ Tenderly] Every thing hath loved him ! and now the flies 
Will kiss him up, if I don't brush them ofi". 
[Miiiters] Well, well, and what of that — they died so 

quick — - 
P 



114 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

I had not time to bury them, in sooth. 

He was the dreamer — When will this dream end? 

I sometimes think that I am in my sleep, 

And I were proner still to think it so, 

Could I but waken up one blessed hour, 

To know all this was but a mockery — 

Nay, dreaming, could I dream it but a dream. 

GUIDO. 

There — gently {they lift him up]. Now the food — his 

strength is gone. 
Alas ! he cannot swallow it. Some wine — 
He swallows that: give him some more — he faints — 
Give him some air — fan him — thus — gently — so. 

MONZANO. 

My Lord, he dies — Heaven rest his soul. 

GUIDO. 

Not so — 
It is the unwonted food hath overcome. 
For some few moments, that most slender thread. 
His life is held by. Bear those bodies hence — 
Stop — he revives. 

UGOLINO [gazing\ 
I am lost in wonder — 
Is this a dream, or do I wake from dreams? 

GUIDO. 

This is reality, most noble Count! 

We are your friends — we bring you food, fair sir, 

And honourable liberty. The wretch 

That gave you to these bonds, is now in chains 



DEATH OF UGOLINO. 115 

Himself — Ruggieri's tyranny is o'er — 
Come, gentle sir, now take some food. 

UGOLINO. 

And to whose courtesy, are my poor thanks. 
Kind sir, now due ? 

GUIDO. 

Guido of Montefeltro, noble sir. 
Now stands before you. 

UGOLINO. 

Then do I think that I am waking. Count, 

Your generous nature doth assure me. Well 

Do honour and humanity combine 

In you. — Deal with my enemy, I pray. 

In mercy, as I trust God will with me. 

Nor let the manner of my death be cast 

Upon him altogether. It was pride. 

Ungovernable pride — and haughtiness, 

And rage in me, that partly drew me to it. 

Deal with them then, I say, in mercy, sirs. 

My generations die with me! So let 

My wealth go back unto my country — thence 

We had it. Ransom the poor captives, now 

In bonds in Genoa. Ah, there they lie [seeing his sons'] ! 

Often I called on them that here lay dead — 

And, being blind, did grope and feel them o'er. 

But I shall join them ; for I know I'm called. 

A lightness grows on me — a thrilling sound 

Of distant heavenly music fills my ears — 

'Tis Nino — my loved Nino — speaks to me. 

Famine at length does that which grief could not. 

Farewell, kind sirs, and lay me by my sons. 



116 DEATH OF UGOLINO. 

Now till Ihe dread angelic trumpet sounds, 
When I shall see the great avenging Judge, 
I wake no more. \^Dies. 

[^Curtain drops. 



'^^. 



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